


This Brilliant Dance

by words_reign_here



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-19 21:02:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 86,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3624156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/words_reign_here/pseuds/words_reign_here
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So a prompt that several dozen people asked me to continue. Here is the prompt:<br/>Okay, I have a prompt for you. SPN/Teen Wolf. Dean met Derek on a hunt and they hooked up. Then, years later, they run into each other again and Cas and Stiles get super jealous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As always, constructive criticism is welcome along with any comments and questions.  
> Heads up:  
> I've played around with ages a bit here, mostly for my convenience. Derek and Dean are in the same age group as are Cora Hale and Sam.  
> A big thanks to yall-mothafuckas-need-misha.tumblr.com for creating the playlist that I just added to the chapters. And thank you for reading!

 

[ ** Playlist ** ](https://play.spotify.com/user/ymfnm/playlist/7CqUQLTmkwj9aS4Q0uHY0a)

_**Present Day** _

“Beacon Hills, huh?” Sam said as they passed the sign indicating the town they were entering.

Dean was silent.

“Does Cas know?”

Dean didn’t reply.

“Cas doesn’t know.” Sam concluded. He grabbed his bag and hugged it to his chest. “I’ll stay at a different hotel.”

Dean gave his brother that much and dropped him off at a different hotel than the one he had in mind.

~~~

Stiles was losing his mind. That had to be it. That had to be the only logical conclusion. He fell out of Derek’s bed and crawled over to his pants where his phone was tucked away. It had been a week since he had heard from Scott, a month from Lydia and two months from Kira and three months from Malia. His dad was working the case, Derek worked tirelessly on it and Stiles worried.

God, did Stiles worry.

There were no messages on his phone. As usual. His friends were disappearing, the night before the full moon.

Derek walked into the loft, food in hand, a worried expression on his face.

“Anything?” He asked.

“Nothing.” Stiles muttered. He threw his phone on the couch. Derek set the food down and crouched down in front of him.

“We’ll find them.”

Stiles looked up. “Are you sure?”

Derek didn’t reply.

~~~

“An alpha, a kitsune, a werecoyote, and a banshee.” Cas said. “All gone, a month apart, the day before a full moon.” They stood in Scott McCall’s room, the latest kidnapping victim. He had not gone without a fight. His room was splattered with blood, not his from the test results. Furniture was in pieces around the room and there were gouges in the wall.

“Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.” Dean said, trying to get a smile out of Cas. Cas usually smiled more easily when Dean wore his suit. It did not work this time.

“This is serious, Dean.” Cas chided. “These are children.”

Sam sighed and stepped between them before Dean could dig his grave any deeper. “The only thing these kids have in common is one friend that remains alive and well. His name is-” Sam paused and looked at the paperwork in his hand. He showed it to Cas. “Is that English?”

“Stiles.” A voice came from behind them and the three of them turned to see a guy, no more than eighteen, enter the room. “You can just call me Stiles.”

“Stiles.” Sam said, a light grin on his face. He stepped forward. “Nice to meet you. Saved us the trip to your house, thanks.”

Stiles did not accept his hand. Instead he looked at Dean and asked, “How did you know what they were?”

“Are.” Another voice said and another guy stepped into the room. His gaze went from Sam, to Cas and a dismissive glance at Dean. “What they _are_.”

Everyone turned to the newest member of the group and there was a stone cold silence.

“Oh god.” Sam whispered and backed up. Cas glanced at Sam and then Dean who very suddenly became interested in the broken window behind Cas.

“Sam.” The new guy said. “You grew up.”

“Derek.” Sam said. He stayed behind Cas. “Hey.”

“You know each other?” Cas asked. Stiles followed Derek’s gaze to Sam and then to Cas.

“Yeah. Sam here went to school here for a little while.” Derek said.

“So who’s this guy?” Stiles asked and jerked a finger to Dean.

Dean didn’t reply.

Sam took another step behind Cas, placing himself as far away from the other four as he could without physically leaving the room.

Derek said nothing.

Cas shot a glance between Derek and Dean and Dean looked up in time to see the dawning realization in time.

“Did you two-?” Stiles said at that exact moment. “Oh god. You did.” He nodded and looked over at Dean who gave him a pained smile. “You were his- You guys-” Stiles paled. “I could have met the ex at a much better time, Derek.”

“It was just a high school fling, Stiles. He left without saying goodbye, anyway.” Derek said flatly.

Stiles nodded and looked at Dean critically. He was trying to find a physical flaw there, something wrong with the way that Dean held himself, his suit, his face, his body, _anything_.

“I’m going to go home.” Stiles said slowly and nodded. He backed up slowly and kept his eyes either on Derek or Dean the entire time. “I’m going to go to sleep and then I’m going to eat some cereal and check on my dad.”

“Stiles-” Derek started.

“No, I’m good. I am. I’ll just- I’ll see you later.” At the last second Stiles rushed forward and planted a kiss on Derek’s mouth and then left without another word.

Derek glared at Dean. “This is all your fault.”

Dean snorted. “Hey buddy, I’ve been blamed for the apocalypse. Being blamed for a fight with your boyfriend isn’t going to lose me any sleep tonight.”

Derek glared and left.

“The usual. Glare and leave.” Dean muttered. “And I know you can hear me, you grumpy bastard.”

The door slammed harder than was necessary downstairs.

Done at the McCall residence, the three left. Sam claimed the backseat and would have offered to walk back to his motel if he were wearing different shoes.

After a long moment of silence and Cas glaring out the window he finally said, “Well no one can fault your taste, I suppose.”

“Cas-”

“In fact you seem to have a type. Dark hair, light colored eyes, an aversion to shaving.”

“What does that-”

“I’m just observing, is all.” Cas snapped.

“Observe another time when there aren’t four teenagers missing, all supernatural creatures.”

“Dean.” Cas said flatly.

“What, Cas? What do you want me to say?! Yes, I was with Derek. But the only one I want to be with is _you_. I go to sleep with _you_ every night, I work with _you_ every day, I’m with _you_ every day, you are _it_ for me now can we find these kids and then go home?” Dean cried out, frustration spilling over.

There was a long pause and Sam knew Cas was glaring out the window. “Fine.” He said finally.

~~~

Derek was panicking. He couldn’t find Stiles. He wasn’t at home. He wasn’t at his usual burger place. He hoped he wasn’t with Scott.

At a loss, he went back to his loft where he found Stiles sprawled out on the bed.

“How did you go from that-” Stiles started, without another word, “To this? Jesus, Derek, didn’t anyone every tell you you’re supposed to upgrade?”

Derek hauled Stiles up and wrapped his arms around him. “What are you talking about?” He asked into Stiles neck.

“Your ex back there, Mr. Tall, Lightly Freckled and Silent!”

“Dean.” Derek said, still holding Stiles close.

“Ok. Dean.” Stiles tried to pry himself away from Derek but that werewolf strength hindered him.

“Dean was just-”

“Your ex! You dated him! You had sex with him!”

Derek pulled back and looked at Stiles. “Dean is not you. You are Stiles. Goofy, smart, adorable Stiles. He is none of that.”

Stiles paused. “No, he’s not adorable.” He looked out the window and said, “He’s beautiful, did you _see_ his eyes? And that suit? Was it custom tailored? Where the hell do you even find someone like _that_?”

Derek looked at Stiles critically. “Did _you_ want to date him?”


	2. Chapter 2

**[ Playlist ](https://play.spotify.com/user/ymfnm/playlist/7CqUQLTmkwj9aS4Q0uHY0a) **

_**September, 1997** _

“Beacon Hills, huh?” Dean said, leaning against the passenger side door. “Sounds especially lame, dad.”

John ignored the comment. “I’ve got you both enrolled in the high school. There’s a little house by the library that I’ve rented and when I say little, I mean little.” John’s eyes scanned the street and he turned down one street and followed it to a small house. Sam sighed when he saw it and Dean had to bite back a comment when he saw it. John parked in the little gravel spot in front of the door and they all exited the car. It was an almost white color with pale blue shutters over some of the windows. John stepped inside first and Dean then Sam followed. The place had to be four hundred feet, max. Inside, there was a small kitchen, a small living room, a very tiny bathroom, one bedroom and that was about it. A tv and a futon took up most of the room in the living room and there was a twin sized bed in the bedroom. One closet in the living room and another in the bedroom and that was it. That was-

“Home away from home.” John announced, setting down some groceries on the counter.

Sam snorted. “We’d have to have a home initially for that to be even a little true.” He turned and took two steps into the bedroom and shut it behind him softly.

Dean rolled his eyes at his dad. “Don’t worry. He’ll get used to it. Until we leave.”

“Help me unload the rest of the stuff.” John instructed.

Before their last move, Dean had the foresight to pack up most of their stuff. A few blankets, pillows, Sam’s books and their clothes were dumped unceremoniously on the futon and Dean stepped back once more to look at the very tiny house him and Sam would be occupying for the next couple weeks, at least.

John sighed. “It’s a big job. Hunters from all over the state are supposed to be helping but it might take some time anyway. Couple of months, at least. You'll be ok here?” John leaned over the kitchen sink to look out at the backyard. Or rather, the thick trees and shrubbery that surrounded a person as soon as they left through the backdoor. 

“Sure dad.” Dean said. He took the thick wad of bills from his father’s hand and a credit card.

As he tugged the card out of his father’s hand, John held fast. “Only for emergencies and only if you know you can get away with it, you hear?”

“Yes sir.” Dean replied immediately.

John nodded and turned back to the closed door. “I’ll see you soon, Sam!” There was no reply but neither Dean nor John expected one. John clapped Dean on the shoulder. “Take care of your brother.”

“I will.” Dean promised.

It wasn’t until the Impala roared away that Sam opened the door. “Did he leave?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Dean said. He went into the kitchen and began unloading the stuff his father had left. The bare necessities to get them through the night until Dean could find the time to go to the store. “It wouldn’t kill you to tell him bye once in a while.”

Sam shrugged but began to help Dean. In the back of one of the cupboards Sam found a small radio and turned it on. He tuned into a classic rock station for Dean and set it on the window sill. He jumped up on the counter and watched as Dean began to form hamburgers out of the meat he had picked up at the store.

“What’s the school called?” Dean asked.

“Beacon Hills High. You’ll be happy to know that they are not a football school or even a basketball school.” Sam said. He chewed on a Twizzler he had conned out of Dean at the store. 

“Wrestling?”

“Fraid not. Lacrosse.”

Dean groaned. “Are you shitting me right now?”

Sam laughed and shook his head. “No."

“Give me anything but those preppy assholes.” Dean moaned and threw the meat into the pan. He pulled the bread closer to him, spread some butter on a few slices and began to toast them up. “Soccer, tennis, hell I’ll take football.”

“They can’t be all that bad.” Sam said.

Dean pointed a finger at him. “Before the week is out, you’ll be eating those words, Sammy.

~~~

“Did you do your chemistry?” Cora asked, leaning over Derek’s shoulder

“Yeah, why?” Derek asked, pushing her away.

“Because it’s a full moon this weekend and you have a test on Monday.” She reminded him. The change got to him still, made him more likely to sleep away the afternoon after a full moon than to do anything else. 

Derek rolled his eyes. “I’ve already got one mom.”

“Yeah and you don’t listen to her either.” Talia called from the kitchen. Derek couldn’t tell what she was cooking but there was meat involved and he was really interested.

“I listen!” Derek said, offended.

Peter snorted from his chair where he was buried in one of his college textbooks.

“Shut it, old man.” Derek said and tossed a football at his uncle’s head. Peter caught it without looking up and tucked it behind him. “I do need to go down to the library for a few books though. Wanna go?” He asked Cora.

She sighed and shook her head. “Algebra.”

Derek made a face and stood. “Peter?”

“Fifteenth century Russian literature.” He replied and scribbled in his book.

“That sounds disgusting.” Derek said. He made his way into the kitchen and plucked his keys off the key ring. “Do you need anything while I’m in town?” He asked his mother. She surveyed the mess she had on the counter and opened the fridge before shaking her head.

“No, we’re fine. Don’t be long. It should be done before seven.” She said.

Derek looked out the window. It was just after five. “I’ll be home before then.” He promised.

“Be careful on that thing.” She snarled at him and he held his hands up in surrender.

“I always am.” Derek promised.

That was a lie. Him and his bike were the worst thing to happen to Beacon Hills and if Stilinski caught him breaking the speeding limit one more time, the sheriff swore that he would impound the bike himself.

But he took it easy on the way into town. It was a nice fall afternoon and a little cooler than comfortable but it felt nice to Derek, it felt like running, like being free, but instead of being under the moon he was out in front of everyone.

Out.

Derek snorted at the thought.

He parked in front of the library and adjusted his backpack on his shoulders. He headed in and straight to the nonfiction section where he should have checked out his book for his upcoming book report two weeks ago. He wasn’t too worried; he worked better under pressure.

He went through some books before coming upon the history of the Marines. If he hadn’t been what he was, he would have enlisted. But he knew that the military wasn't too flexible about their schedules and Derek wouldn’t be able to work on the full moon days. He flipped through the book, checked to make sure it was non fiction and headed to the checkout counter.

“Derek.” Mrs. Snyder greeted him warmly. She had been volunteering at the library since Derek could remember. “How’s your mother?”

“Good. She’s good, at home with my sister and uncle right now.”

Mrs. Snyder checked the book out and wrote down the return date on a bookmark she tucked into the front cover for him. “Tell her I said hello.”

Derek nodded and raised the book at her in acknowledgment. As he headed out the door, a kid was running into the front doors and was shouting over his shoulder, “Just thirty minutes, I promise!”

He ran right into Derek who was barely rocked back on his heels but he sent the kid tumbling to the ground.

“Oh, geez.” Derek said and crouched down to help the kid who had papers scattered on the ground.

The kid was holding his left hand to his chest and was looking down at his papers. “I’m sorry-” Derek started.

“Sam?” A guy said, coming up behind the kid and hauling him to his feet. “You ok? Let me see.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” The kid said, holding his palm out for the older guy to see. “Just a scratch.”

Papers gathered in hand now, Derek stood and faced the other two.

And paused.

The kid- well he was just a kid. Slight, with shaggy brown hair and hazel eyes. But the other guy, the one who had come up behind him- well. His eyes were green and he had a strong jaw and his hair was this light brown and there were freckles across his nose-

“I’m sorry.” Derek tried again and handed the papers back over to the younger kid, Sam. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“No, my fault.” Sam said immediately, clutching the papers to his chest. “I really wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“Hey, no harm, no foul, right?” The guy said and there was something forced in his voice.

Derek let his eyes drift to the sky. It was almost a full moon; he could feel it in his blood, prickling at him. “Are you guys new here?” He asked, as a way of changing the subject. There was only one high school and if they were new, Derek was not above claiming the two as his new friends. God knew he needed some.

“Yeah, we just got here.” The other guy said. He stuck out his hand. “Dean Winchester. And this tornado is my brother Sam.”

“Nice to meet you.” Derek said, taking his hand. There were calluses there and Derek had to wonder how the hell someone so young could already have calluses on his hands. “Derek Hale. Beacon Hills High?”

“First thing in the morning.” Sam said, and there was more than a little excitement in his voice.

Derek raised his eyebrows at Dean.

“He, uh, really enjoys school.” Dean provided.

“Freshman?” Derek asked. They stepped aside as Mrs. Snyder started to close the doors behind Derek. Sam’s face fell.

“Yeah.”

Derek nodded. “My sister is too. Cora Hale. I’ll have her look out for you. I know that they can be tough on the new kids, especially in the younger grades.”

Dean’s eyes shifted to Sam back to Derek. “How do you mean?”

“Lacrosse team players are assholes.” Derek said. “They like to think that there is some kind of hazing process for the new kids.”

Dean smirked and looked at Derek right in the eye. “And who’s going to look out for me?”

Without breaking eye contact and with a smirk of his own Derek replied, “You look like you can handle yourself.”

Dean had no reply and there was nothing left to say until Sam cleared his throat. Dean looked down at him and nodded. “Maybe we’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Derek nodded and made his way over to his bike. “You’ll see me.” He promised and started it up with a roar, leaving the two brothers behind.

~~~

“You said his name is Sam?” Cora asked later that night, sprawled out on Derek’s bed.

“Yeah. Little kid. Shaggy hair. He seems nice enough.” Derek said, going through his shirts. He pulled out a long sleeved gray henley and nodded to himself. He tossed it on the chair and began to go through his drawers, looking for his favorite pair of pants.

“They’re dirty. You wore them two days ago.” Cora reminded him.

“Shit.”

“Wear the ones that have the hole in the pocket.” She advised.

“Why?”

“Because I heard Michelle say that your ass looks divine in them.”

Derek snorted but found the jeans she mentioned.

“So did you tell this Dean that you wanted to jump his bones before or after he introduced his little brother?” Cora asked, twisting a strand of hair around her finger restlessly.

“I didn’t say that.” Derek muttered.

Cora snorted. “You aren’t one for subtlety, big brother.”

“Maybe not but I’m not going to proposition the guy with his little brother standing right there.” Derek said. He frowned and then let him realize what they were talking about, what they had been dancing around for the past six months.

“Wait, I mean-”

“Exactly what you just said.” Cora said and flipped off his bed, landing on her feet lightly. She pulled him down to her height, kissed his forehead and went to her own room, closing Derek’s door behind her.

~~~

“Be nice, Dean.” Sam begged as they walked up to the entrance of the school. It was a short walk through the woods behind the library.

“I’m nice. I’m a nice guy.” Dean said, surveying the landscape around them. They walked through the field and in the distance, he saw some players warming up.

“Go to class.” Sam reminded him as they entered the double doors and headed for the front office to pick up the schedules.

“I’m here aren’t I?” Dean said. He inspected his and Sam’s schedules and was relieved to find they had the same lunch. They were standing just outside the office and kids were streaming in at a steady pace.

“Dude, you have trig first thing in the morning. Sucks.”

“Are you any good at it?” A girl asked, stopping right in front of them. She had dark eyes that tilted up just slightly at the corners and a generous mouth. She wore no makeup, and her dark hair fell just past her shoulders. Derek stood behind her.

“I was acing it at my last school.” Sam said, looking from Derek to the girl.

“Then you are my new best friend and tutor.” The girl looped her arm through Sam’s and pulled his schedule out of his hands. Sam shot a desperate look over his shoulder as she pulled him away and Dean heard Cora ask, “So how’s your organic chem?”

Dean waved his brother off.

“May I?” Derek asked, nodding to the schedule in Dean’s hands.

“Oh, yeah.” Dean said and handed it over.

“Let’s go find your locker.” Derek said and led Dean down a series of halls. Overhead, the bell rang but Derek seemed to be in no hurry.

“Aren’t you going to be late?” Dean asked.

“We have our first class together.” Derek said and stopped at a locker. “I’m showing the new kid around, who’s going to fault me for that?”

Dean shrugged out of his jacket and put it in the locker. He stuck a pencil behind his ear and kept his notebook in his hand. “All right then. Lead the way Gandalf.”

“Oh my god, you are a closet geek.” Derek snorted and they headed down the hall. Derek pointed out the library, the gym, the lunch room. Finally they made their way to a hallway and stopped outside a class.

“Hey, listen. Some of the guys here are real dicks. Just- if you need someone to watch your back-” Derek stuttered to a halt. He wasn’t really offering this guy his protection was he?

Yeah, he was.

But Dean grinned wide and broad despite Derek’s strange offer. “Thanks, man, but I think I got it covered.” Dean’s eyes flicked to the wall behind Derek where there was a trophy case. “But what I could use is a friend.”

Derek returned his grin. “I can do that.” He reached for the door handle and they entered the classroom where Dean went through the stilted process of being introduced and then slid into a desk right behind Derek.

Dean leaned forward and Derek felt his warm breath on his neck and the spearmint gum on his breath. “I only have to do that like six more times right?”

Derek chuckled and nodded.

“Got a pen?” Dean asked.

Derek rolled his eyes but dug one out of his pocket and handed it back.

For the rest of the period, Derek felt the warmth on his neck and spearmint would never smell the same.

~~~

Cora was more than a handful. She was a _terror_ , a force of nature, night and the stars.

Sam was probably a little in love by lunch time.

Cora navigated people like Sam cruised through books. Some welcomed her and others gave her wide berth, but either way mostly everyone knew where to step with Cora. Except for Sam. Sam did not know what to expect from her, but when he felt her arm slip through his, he was more than willing to go along with wherever she pulled him.

At lunch he sat down at a table and was not surprised to see Cora slip into the seat across from him.

“So, how goes it?” She asked, pushing her hair behind her ear. Sam liked that she was so forward and that she always met his gaze forthrightly. He liked the way she listened when he talked about authors. He liked the questions she asked in class when she didn’t understand something, pushing and pushing the teacher until she finally understood.

“In the fifteen minutes I’ve been without you all morning?” Sam asked. They had matching schedules, for some miraculous reason.

“Yeah.” Cora said, pulling a lunch box out of her backpack and putting it on the table between them. It had stars and ponies on it. “Don’t you dare say a word about it. Derek bought it for me with his own money when I started school and I haven’t parted with it since.”

“Oh.” Sam said, thinking about the amulet under Dean’s shirt. “Ok.”

Dean spotted them and made his way across the room and sat next to Cora. “This place is a maze.” He complained. Sam picked at his lunch and frowned. For all of Dean’s shortcomings, cooking was not one of them. But this mess on a tray in front of him was not Dean’s cooking.

“Aren’t you eating?” Cora asked, taking a vicious bite out of her sandwich. Sam watched as Derek entered the lunchroom and spotted them before getting in line.

“Nah, not hungry.” Dean replied easily. That was a lie, Sam knew. Dad never left them with enough money and Dean would forgo eating lunch so Sam could and they would still have money for groceries later.

Cora frowned and Sam knew that she knew that Dean was lying. Dean pulled a book out of his backpack and flipped it open. History.

“I’ve gotta catch up on some stuff anyway.” Dean said.

Sam and Cora exchanged a look, both shrugged and continued eating.

Derek sat down a moment later and Sam, having grown up with Dean who ate whatever he could get close to, was nonetheless impressed with the amount of food that Derek was able to fit on the little Styrofoam tray.

“Dude, what the hell?” Dean asked, eyeing the mountain of food in front of Derek.

“The lady behind the counter likes me. She gives me extra.” Derek said. He tugged an extra tray out from under his and began to scoop some of the food out on the other tray. “Here, I can’t eat all this on my own.”

Cora watched her brother with steady eyes and Sam had to wonder what she was thinking.

_Did she know-_

And when her gaze switched to Sam’s eyes, there was an understanding there. A simple understanding that while you loved your parents, while you sometimes modeled yourself after them, an older sibling was your dearest and best friend. And that meant accepting who they were, just the way they were.

“Are you sure?” Dean asked, eyeing the food in front of him.

Derek was already stuffing his face. “Dude, eat.”

Dean did not need to be told twice.

~~~

The day was uneventful, as far as first days went. Dean and Sam had been through plenty of them and now this was just another one for the books. After school, Sam walked with Cora to the entrance.

“You’re kind of weird.” She declared as they sat on a wall, waiting for their brothers.

 _You’re like the wind in a hurricane_ , Sam thought. “What the hell?” He asked instead. “You’re weird.”

Cora nodded and accepted this. “Any guy in your position would have taken any number of chances today to ask for my number and what I’m doing this weekend.”

Sam smiled. There it was. “I’m not like any other guy.” He said and she rolled her eyes.

“Shut up.” Cora said. “I mean it.”

Sam thought about it and tried to put what he felt into words. “I don’t- I don’t really like the whole romance thing.”

“Most guys don’t.”

“I think that’s a lie.” Sam replied. “I think guys do like it but it’s a gender biased way of thinking that doesn't let them admit it. I don’t like it. I never have. I think friendships are more valuable.” He squinted off into the distance and wondered where his brother was. “Friends are more important to me.”

Cora didn’t reply immediately and he wondered if he had already lost his first potential friend.

“I like that.” She said finally.

Sam nodded. “Good.”

Derek showed up just then and looked up at them. “Hey.” He said.

“Hi.” Sam said.

“Take your sweet time, why don’t you?” Cora said and slipped off the wall and landed next to her brother. She reminded Sam of a mountain lion he saw once when he got lost in the woods.

“I did.” Derek said. At the same time, Cora and Derek glanced over their shoulders at a group of loud jocks that were passing by them.

“We’ll wait.” Cora said. Derek nodded.

“You don’t have to.” Sam said immediately. “I’m sure Dean will be here in a few minutes.”

“It’s ok.” Derek said. “We have time.”

Dean did arrive a few minutes later, lugging a few extra books. “I hate homework.” Dean muttered. “You ready? Cuz I’m going to be up all night at this rate.”

“Yeah.” Sam said, jumping down off the wall and landing next to his brother.

“Hey, listen. We got some stuff to do tonight but if you guys are free tomorrow, you should come by.” Cora said. “Derek can help you with all that crap and Sam and I can make fun of you guys.”

Sam nodded sagely.

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, ok.”

Derek grinned and it was such a rare thing, Dean had come to learn, that he reveled in it. He felt it sink into his chest and it found a home there.

“Great. We’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Derek said.

Sam tried to ignore the small smile on Dean’s face as they crossed the field and into the woods and their tiny little house behind the library.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few quick things. In present day, the pack (with the exception of Derek) are twenty one/twenty two. They are in college or working, depending on the character.  
> For my own sanity (and trying to figure out the ages of some of these characters have damn near driven me crazy) Dean and Derek are the same age, Cora and Sam are the same age, and the rest remains as is. 
> 
> So I'm also going back through my chapters and adding Present/Past timestamps so this doesn't get all whack-a-doo. Expect postings every Thursday night/early Friday morning.

 

**[ Playlist ](https://play.spotify.com/user/ymfnm/playlist/7CqUQLTmkwj9aS4Q0uHY0a) **

_**Present Day** _

Sam had the right idea, staying at a different hotel. Dean wished he had thought of getting another room but it was pointless. Cas didn’t _need_ another room. He just stayed there because Dean was there and falling asleep with Cas was like falling asleep with the snow falling outside; peaceful, quiet, comforting.

But not tonight. Cas was still stiff with anger and when Dean tried to make conversation, he only got one word answers. At least with Sam here he could talk about the case with someone but that clearly not going to be what was happening tonight.

Cas sat on the bed in front of the tv, flipping channels impatiently. He even flipped past the fishing channel which Dean had only seen him do once and that was when he thought Dean was flirting “unnecessarily” with the bartender. Dean sighed, pulled out some pajama pants and clean underwear and headed for the shower.

He turned it on as hot as it would go, hoping the heat would burn some of the frustration out of his veins.

What could he say? Dean had had a life before Castiel. It had been filled with experiences and people and heartbreak and goodbyes not said and stones left unturned. When he had left, a part of Dean ached to call Derek but that pushed away soon enough with cases, with people, with life, but mostly with dying. It had been years since he had thought of Derek and the sharp sting of leaving in the middle of the night without having said goodbye.

He could understand why Derek was mad. He got it. Dean knew the type of person Derek was from the first time he first shared lunch with him. Derek didn’t care about a lot of people, probably fewer than five until Dean and Sam had shown up, and that entire list had consisted of family members. And when Dean had left, in the manner that he did-

Well, he understood. He got why Derek would still be angry.

Dean hadn’t seen Cora with Derek. The way he remembered it, Cora had been attached to Derek at the hip.

But now there was Stiles. The kid was skinny but cute. Dean saw how he was appealing. And the kid looked like he was hurting, something that attracted Derek, for sure. Not to say that’s why they were together; not at all. Dean knew the intricacies of a relationship were something that someone from the outside looking in could never really comprehend but he saw it. He just saw a little of himself in Stiles’ eyes. He saw that the kid was a little lost in a world too big for a single person to handle.

Dean stood with his head bowed against the water and didn’t even look behind him when he heard the shower curtain open and felt arms wrap around him.

“I’m sorry.” Cas mumbled against his skin, warm and wet already. “I forget that you had a life before me.”

“I have a life even though you are right here.” Dean mumbled, lacing his fingers through Castiel’s. “It’s just that you are most of it.”

Cas pressed his lips to Dean’s shoulder blade and they stayed like that for a long time, without speaking.

“Is he a good man?” Cas asked.

“I don’t know.” Dean answered honestly. “I don’t know who he is anymore. But as kids, in high school? He was good. He was-” Dean paused. “He was figuring things out, but he was a good guy.”

“You mortals seem to keep a few characteristics from the beginning of your life till near the end. Remarkably, this is one of them.” Cas tugged at Dean’s hip until Dean turned around and faced him. “If you believe that he is still a good man and that this thing with all those missing kids would be more quickly solved with his help, then I believe that our best bet would be to work with him and Stiles.

Dean felt something loosen in his chest that he didn’t know had been binding there. “You think we should?”

Cas kissed Dean on the mouth, just a quick press of his lips. “I trust you with my grace and what might be the beginnings of a soul. We are here to find these kids and keep them out of danger. If Derek can help with that,” Cas shrugged. “Who are we to turn away help?”

Dean nodded and leaned forward so that his face was tucked into the wet warmth of Castiel’s neck. “What if they don’t want to help?” Dean asked.

“How has that ever stopped us?” Cas replied.

Dean laughed but had to agree. 

~~~

Stiles was mostly alone at school. College was a bigger place to be sure, but the word spread quickly around a place like Beacon Hills. They knew Stiles from the papers, from the news magazines and from the microphones being shoved in his and Derek’s faces. People avoided him like he was the Black Plague incarnate. Not that he could really blame them. The fact of the matter is, is that in the past three months everyone close to him had disappeared. The only exceptions were his dad and Derek but they weren’t there to sit in his Jeep during lunch when he had to take shelter from the whispers and the sidelong glances. Derek would have shown up he was sure but he didn’t want to put that on him on top of everything else.

So when he was making his way to this Jeep for yet another lunch time spent alone he was jerked out of his melancholy and the suspicious glares by his name being called over the PA system. The few kids that were in the hall gave him glances and stepped out of his way.

“Yeah, get out of my way. You might mysteriously disappear too. That’s right. Step away. Nothing to see here.” He said, as two girls and another guy stepped out of his way.

_Just a guy who has lost every single important human being in his life. Starting with his mom, his childhood sweetheart, two of his closest friends and now the guy he considered to be his brother._

He saw his father’s trademark brown jacket through the window of the office and walked in. The secretary didn’t meet his eyes.

“We’ll let you know when we’re done.” The tall guy was saying, smiling at the dean of the college. The dean looked ill at ease being in the same room with so many official people and left as quickly as he could while skirting widely around Stiles as he walked in.

Stiles took stock of the room. His father, Sam Winchester, the squinty guy and Dean Winchester.

He sighed.

“Dad, these guys are hunters.” He said without any preamble, gesturing to Sam and Dean.

The sheriff narrowed his eyes. “Like the Argents?”

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance and the squinty guy squinted harder at Stiles.

“Not exactly. The Argents had a specialty. From what I can find out about the Winchesters, they work as a catch all. They don’t discriminate, you could say.” Stiles said, looking from one brother to the other. He had been on Derek’s laptop late the previous evening, researching what he could on the Winchesters. It seemed they had died, several times over. “But for all I can tell is that there is only two brothers, Sam and Dean. I don’t know who this other guy is.” Stiles said, looking over at the man in the ill-fitting trench coat.

The man looked over at Dean. He did not offer a reply.

“Is he right?” Sheriff Stilinski asked, turning to the other two. “And if he is, who are you?” He asked.

Sam sighed and looked at his brother. “He’s right. I’m Sam, he’s Dean. This guy is Castiel. He’s- uh-” Sam floundered here, not sure how much he should share with everyone.

“I’m an angel of the lord.” Castiel said gravely and stuck his hand out to the sheriff who shook it automatically.

“What?” Stiles and his father said at the same time, looking at each other and then crossing their arms in the same manner.

“An angel of the lord.” Castiel repeated, at this point used to humans not being able to accept what he said at face value. “We’re here to help you find your friends. Sam and Dean, they cross the country, helping people with otherwordly problems such as the one you are currently facing.”

“What?” The sheriff said again.

“If you are so inclined,” Castiel plowed ahead, “Dean would be happy to make dinner tonight during which we could discuss all the semantics, strategy, motive and eventual rescue.”

“What?” The sheriff said, looking at Sam who was looking just as bewildered. Dean was simply watching Cas, his mouth ajar.

“I will what?” Dean asked.

“Rescue?” Stiles said.

“Dinner, tonight.” Cas said to the sheriff. He turned to Dean, “You’ll prepare dinner at the Stilinski household.” He looked over at Stiles, “A rescue, Stiles. They are alive. They are hidden from me, but I can tell you as much, that they are very much alive.” Cas paused and stepped forward gingerly. Stiles felt tears forming in his eyes. Cas placed a hand on his shoulder. Stiles felt the power in that gesture, something barely leashed in this man. “I cannot yet understand why these things have transpired the way that they have, but I want you to know that Dean and I, Sam as well, will do everything within our power to help you find your friends and recover them alive and well.”

“You can do that?” Stiles whispered, tears falling now. He brushed them away hastily, hating that upon his second meeting, he was already crying in front of Derek’s ex.

“We’ll die trying.” Dean promised from behind Cas.

Sam sighed. “Again.”

“ _What_?” The sheriff said.

~~~

Melissa McCall had not been to work in four days. For the past day she had laid in John Stilinski’s bed, watching the sun rise and eventually dip over the horizon. Derek did not try to speak to her, despite the doctors encouraging them to. He knew grief like this was more than one person could bear and the only way through it was to put one foot in front of the other and slowly get through it.

The doctors had encouraged people to speak to Derek too, when his family had died. Instead, he had curled himself around Cora and they had wept for days, holding onto one another. Cora left, eventually. Derek stayed, though he never understood why.

So while he sat with Melissa, he didn’t say anything. He watched the sun fall as she did, waiting for either Stiles or John to return. He let her feel the loss of her child, though no one yet knew if he was truly lost. All they knew was that he was gone and had been gone. His room destroyed, his bike in the garage, blood splashed on his walls, his friends and girlfriend gone. All but Stiles.

“Will he be next?” She whispered softly.

“I don’t know.” Derek replied. “There’s no way for us to know.”

“If Scott is gone, Stiles will be all that is left for me.” Melissa whispered. “He’s not mine, but he’s all that I will have left.”

“I know.” Derek said, finally meeting her eyes. She was pale and her dark eyes stood out. She did not look dead; just hollowed out as though someone had taken the very core of her. Derek wasn’t sure which was worse.

“You have to keep him safe.” She whispered.

“I’ll do everything I can.” He swore.

~~~

Dean huffed and inspected the pasta in front of him. He growled out a list of vegetables to Sam and he turned and walked away. Dean glared at the wine in front of him like it had offended him.

“I don’t know why you are acting like this.” Cas said diplomatically. “You knew from this morning that we would probably have to work with them.”

“Yeah but talking about it and inviting us over to Derek’s boyfriend’s house to discuss strategy are two different things, Castiel.” Dean snapped back. Cas raised an eyebrow. The last time Dean had called him by his full name, angels had fallen from the sky.

“You would have appreciated some warning. I can understand that.” Cas said nodding. “And I am sure there are some other human, inconsequential steps that I am missing here.” Cas said.

“Inconsequential?” Dean sputtered, turning his glare to Cas. “This is going to be awkward and weird and-”

“Might end up saving a few lives.” Sam interrupted. He shoved a head of lettuce at Dean and some fresh herbs. “So you are just going to have to suck it up and deal with being in the same room as Derek for a couple of hours until this whole thing gets settled. After which we will never come back to this town if only so I don’t get any gray hair.”

Dean glared at him but then softened his gaze and plucked a bottle of red wine off the shelf. “I know. I just hate-” He stopped and looked around. He was having a heart to heart conversation about his first boyfriend with his current boyfriend in the wine section of a freaking grocery store.

“You just hate how things ended with Derek.” Sam supplied. He nodded and took a bottle of white wine off the shelf. “But that- that was dad, Dean. The way he treated you, the way things went down-” Sam looked at his shoes and didn’t mean Dean’s eyes, “That wasn’t your fault. That wasn’t anyone’s fault but dad’s.”

~~~

“ _What_?” Derek asked.

“That’s exactly what I said.” Sheriff Stilinski said. He set some soup in front of Melissa who was wrapped up in one of Scott’s old hoodies, staring out at the setting sun. She wore loose yoga pants and bunny slippers, her hair pulled up in a bun.

“He’s an angel?” Derek asked.

“That’s what he said.” Stiles said, from the chair beside him. “An angel of the lord.” Stiles said in a low, gruff voice. Then he rolled his eyes. “Whatever that means.”

“It means he’s a warrior, a soldier. Fighting a war against Satan since time began.” Derek said and Stiles couldn’t help but notice the excitement in his voice.

“You aren’t buying this, are you?” Stiles asked. “The bible, most of that is just myth.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Stiles. Come on. Where do you think we came from?”

“The Hales?” Stiles said. “The name is English, so England."

“Werewolves.” Derek said, impatient.

“I-” Stiles stopped and furrowed his eyebrow. “I just thought you guys were always around.”

“No. See, a long time ago, one of my ancestors made a deal with a demon. Let me have these powers, the sight, the strength, the smell; and you can have my body for three days. The day before, the day of and the day after the full moon. Demon makes the deal. Then, the first werewolf is made. After that, some wolves are born-”

“Like your family.” John said.

Derek nodded. “And some are bitten.”

“Like Scott.” Melissa said.

“Right.” Derek said. “But eventually, mating with humans, the gene got diluted, the demon in us is slowly being eased out while the more human side of us takes over. Demons, Stiles, are real. Ask the Winchesters. Satan, he’s just the big bad of them all.” Derek leaned back. “And this guy, he’s been fighting and strategizing since before our ancestors walked on land. This could be a good thing.”

“Until your model ex boyfriend and his apparently super badass boyfriend come over.” Stiles muttered, sullen despite the good news.

“We’ll get through this.” Derek said, bumping shoulders with Stiles. “This ain’t nothing. This is just one step closer to us getting Scott and the others back.”

Headlights flashed in the living room.

“They’re here.” John said from the front of the house. There was a knock on the front door and John opened it, letting the other three in. Melissa turned, her bunny feet facing the front of the kitchen. Stiles stood but Derek remained seated, lacing his fingers through Stiles. His heart was pounding and Derek could hear it. He tugged Stiles down and kissed him on the lips. “It’s fine.”

Stiles nodded, not convinced at all. “Fine.” He repeated. His heart was still pounding.

In the living room, Sam and Dean and Cas followed John into the kitchen, their arms loaded with bags. John noticed that they weren’t in their suits anymore. Sam had a flannel on with a shirt underneath and a worn coat over that. Jeans and work boots. Dean wore a softer looking zip up jacket with a tshirt underneath it and jeans and work boots. Castiel had on a Black Sabbath shirt with jeans and work boots.

They entered the kitchen behind John and Melissa looked up expectantly. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but when she saw the three of them, there was a little bit more reassurance in her mind. They looked a little worn, a little rough around the edges. The three of them looked like they were fine with breaking the law and knew they could get away with it. They looked like they had killed a few people, a few _things_ in their time. They looked exactly like the kind of men that Melissa would want to send out to find her little boy and kill whoever took him.

“Mrs. McCall.” The first one said, with wide blue eyes. Despite the danger that Melissa knew lurked there, she couldn’t help but notice a little bit of innocence in his eyes as well. “I’m Castiel.” He pushed his bag into Dean’s arms and gently pulled Melissa to her feet and into an unexpected hug. Much to Melissa’s horror, she burst into tears, burying her face in this man’s chest. Castiel didn’t even look surprised, but held her closer, and rubbed circles on her back. He held up a finger to John and Derek when they tried to approach the two of them.

“This is the first time you’ve cried since you heard the news that your son was taken.” Castiel said softly. Melissa nodded. When Castiel hugged her, she felt something inside of her snap, something that kept her sane and reassured that her baby was still alive, that he was still out there fighting. When she leaned into him, she knew that it wasn’t all right, not yet at least. When she felt his arms around her, she knew the direness of the situation.

“He’s still alive.” Cas went on, softly. Melissa cried harder, clutching the front of Castiel’s shirt. “He’s still alive and I will move heaven and earth to make sure he stays that way for a very long time, Mrs. McCall.” Cas crouched down, and as easily as Derek could, he swept her up into his arms and looked at Stiles. “Where is she sleeping?” Stiles stood and scrambled for the door, showing Cas up the stairs to John’s room.

In the echoing quiet of Castiel’s exit, Derek found himself in a room with Dean Winchester for the first time in a very, very long time.

The sheriff shifted his weight and looked around.

Sam glanced from Derek to Dean.

Dean sighed and turned to the counter. He set his bags down and began to pull things from them. Sam, as always, followed suit. “Sheriff, do you have a large pot?” Dean asked.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah.” The sheriff said. He turned to Derek and gently nudged him out of the way to get to the cabinet behind him. “What can I do to help?” John asked, looking at Dean and Sam’s backs as they moved in tandem, pulling things from the grocery bags and setting them on the counter. After all these years of working together, Derek noted that they moved as a team, even in the kitchen. He had to wonder what it was like for Castiel, to walk into a partnership like that.

“If we could start with the kids files, that would be great.” Sam said, turning and taking the pot from John. He went to the sink and began to fill it with water. Dean shrugged out of his jacket and Derek couldn’t help but admire the line of his shoulders. He had grown up handsome, like his mother had predicted so very long ago.

“Sure thing.” John said, and with a helpless glance at Derek, left the room as well.

“Can I do anything?” Derek asked. Dean’s hands slowed but they didn’t stop.

Sam looked up from the pot that was underneath the kitchen spigot. “If you want, you could set the table. Dinner will be awhile, but it couldn’t hurt.”

Derek pursed his lips and nodded.

Dean did not turn around. Neither one spoke to each other as Derek laid out the dishes.

Soon enough, Cas and Stiles came back into the room, Cas taking up the space next to Dean. Dean easily shifted his stance so that he could adjust for Castiel invading his personal space and pushed some vegetables over to him. “Chop these for me?” He asked. Derek watched as Castiel easily fit into the space next to Dean, Dean acting as a bridge between Sam and Castiel. He saw now how the partnership worked. Dean and Cas could move as a team just as easily as Dean and Sam could. But when he saw Dean and Castiel switch sides so that Castiel could be closer to the sink where Sam was, he watched as they fell into an easy rhythm as well. He had to wonder how long they had been working together, so that even this sort of domestic work was done with such a quick efficiency.

Cas went to work quickly, everything cut precisely. After he was done and the veggies were cooling in the fridge, he turned back to Derek who was leaning against the opposite side of the room, restlessly studying Stiles’s fingers in his own.

“Derek.” Castiel said and sat. “Would you sit with me?” He asked and gestured to the chair across from him.

Derek raised an eyebrow at him but sat anyway. “Are you always so formal?” He asked.

“Yes.” Sam and Dean replied and Derek’s mind flicked back to all the times he remembered the brothers speaking together, lying together.

Cas only smiled.

“Where’s Melissa?” Derek asked before sitting.

“Sleeping.” Cas said and his eyes shifted to the door where the sheriff came in, folders bundled in his arms. “She was exhausted, on the verge of collapse. I was able to give her a little peace, if only for her to sleep untroubled.”

“Oh good.” Stiles said, nodding. “I was wondering what the fingers to the forehead thing was.”

Cas glanced up at Stiles and nodded. “Would you sit with us?” He asked.

“Oh! Sure, yeah.” Stiles said and sat. John went to the boys at the counter and spoke quietly to them. He began to pull down the wine glasses.

“Stiles tells me you are a werewolf.” Cas said without any preamble.

“Yes.” Derek replied.

“And Scott, he is your beta, I imagine?” Cas asked.

“No, Scott is the alpha. I am his beta.” Derek said.

“Really? A younger, bitten werewolf is your alpha?” Cas asked, leaning forward. Derek felt like the most important person in the world when he saw that fascinated look in Castiel’s eyes. It wasn’t hard to see how Dean had fallen for this guy.

“He’s a true alpha.” Derek said and glanced down at his hands. “My sister, she was dying. There wasn’t any help for her, medically or magically. So I gave up my power of being an alpha so that she could live the night that we discovered that Scott was the true alpha.”

“And the others, Kira, Lydia, Malia, they make up the rest of the pack?” Cas asked.

“Along with Stiles here, yes.” Derek said.

Dean glanced over his shoulder. “Cas is this really necessary? Shouldn’t we be looking at dates, case files, motives?”

“The dynamics of a pack are crucial information. For instance, if Scott were to call Derek, did you know that it would be physically impossible for him to resist? That if he tried, it would in fact, become very painful?” Cas said. “I was under the impression that if Derek were the alpha, that he could call to Scott and Scott would be able to somehow make it here. But knowing that Scott is the alpha. Well.” Cas shrugged. “It’s never that easy.”

“I haven’t heard from Scott since he was taken. The night it happened, he called to me. But when I got to where he was, I found his room the way you did.”

“Destroyed.” Cas said.

Derek nodded.

“What would it take for someone to take Scott? I imagine, as a true alpha, that his powers would be unparalleled?”

“Yes. And no.” Stiles said. “He was just beginning to discover who he was, what he could, that limits didn’t really apply to him anymore.”

“That could go to someone’s head.” Sam said.

“Not Scott. That’s why he’s a true alpha. Anyone less-” Stiles shook his head. “It would have been a disaster.”

“So where does that leave us?” Dean asked.

“Square one.” Cas said. He frowned and pulled the case files closer, gently shifting the plates out of his way. Stiles couldn’t help but notice how everything he did was slow and calm. He glanced over at Derek and doubted his words of this guy being an age old warrior.

“If I’m not careful with what I do, Stiles, I will break everything.” Castiel said. “But do not doubt that I can take of a situation, should it arise.”

“How did you-? Can you read minds?” Stiles asked.

“No, it’s all right there on your face.” Castiel said, flipping through Lydia’s files. “It says here that Lydia Martin is something of a genius. An IQ of 170 and quite possibly the brightest student at this school. Is there a reason she is here and not Oxford or Stanford?”

“She wanted to stay close to the pack. Her powers were strengthening as well and she wasn’t sure she could handle them without the support of her family.” Derek said quietly.

Cas nodded and flipped through the pages before stopping and raising an eyebrow. He went on without another word. “A banshee can predict death, find death. Useful, if you are trying to protect someone.”

He flipped to Kira’s file. He whistled. “She is amazing. Has she done any showings?” Cas asked, looking at the pictures of some of Kira’s paintings. They were hyper-realistic of Scott, one of Lydia studying, another of a sunset. “She is a gift.” He was quiet, staring at the pictures. “She is a trickster as well, but a good one. A white spirit, as humans refer to them. I’m not sure how powerful she is yet, or even how old she is-”

“She’s twenty one. Like the rest of us.” Stile interrupted.

“Are you sure?” Castiel asked, looking from Derek to Stiles.

“Yes.” Derek said and nodded. “Her mother verified it.”

“Good enough.” Cas said. His hand lingered over her Kira’s file a moment longer and his gaze wandered down to the floor and to the window. “Dean?” Cas said.

“Yeah?” Dean said, glancing over his shoulder.

Cas seemed to want to say something but shook his head. “Never mind.”

Dean frowned at him and stared for a minute even as Cas turned back to Stiles and Derek. Derek caught his eye for a second before he turned his gaze back to Cas and Dean went back to preparing dinner.

“Malia Tate-”

“Hale.” Derek corrected immediately, automatically. “My uncle Peter is her father. She, uh, was put up for adoption shortly after she was born. We didn’t know until less than a year ago.”

“So your cousin, Malia?” Sam asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“Yeah, but we aren’t- we haven’t really gotten to know each other. The others in the pack, especially Kira and Lydia, are closer to her. Those three are joined at the hip.”

“So when Malia went missing initially, did the other two have any sense of what might have happened?” Cas asked.

“No, but they searched everywhere. Kira and her mom used every spell they knew. Lydia would drive for hours and hours trying to find her.” Stiles recalled. At Castiel’s furrowed brow he explained, “That’s how Lydia can find bodies, sometimes. She’ll drive or walk.”

“Everyone thought she was dead?” Dean asked. He checked the pot to make sure it was boiling and then dumped some pasta in.

“Well, yeah. She was part of the pack and no matter how many times Scott called to her, she never returned to us.” Derek said. “Which, knowing what we know now, makes the whole thing worse.”

“She must have been in pain.” Sam said softly.

“And tied up somewhere. Or locked away. That would be the only way to keep her away.” Derek added softly.

“But she’s a were _coyote_ , not a werewolf?” Cas asked.

“Right.” Derek said.

Cas hummed underneath his breath and laid a hand on the side of Malia’s portrait they had taken at school. Stiles stood suddenly and left. Derek heard him open the door to his room and his footsteps coming back. He had a frame in his hands and handed it to Cas. It was a picture of them all right before everyone had gone missing. Stiles was leaning against Derek, Derek’s arm wrapped around his shoulders. Kira and Lydia were on either side of Scott, who was giving the camera a thumbs up. Malia stood in front of all of them, in a classic “muscle man” stance, flexing and goofing off for the camera. Stiles remembered that day well. There had been sand in his shorts, he had gotten sun burned and almost drowned twice in the crashing waves. There had been food, and Malia and Scott had wrestled to see who was stronger. Scott let Malia win. Lydia showed off her talent for singing and playing guitar and they had all cheered for her. There had been no phones, no death threats, no imminent danger. Everything had been as it should have been for kids in their early twenties; perfect and sunshine and _good_.

“Cas?” Dean asked.

Cas was holding the picture of the beach but he was looking out the window at the setting sun. He pointed to Lydia. “Death.” He pointed to Kira, “Light.” He pointed to Malia, “Beauty.” He pointed to Scott, “The leader.” He looked up at Derek, “The heart.” He glanced up at Stiles, “The sacrifice.”

“What?” John asked.

“That’s all that one person needs to rise to power. A rise to power.” Cas said. “A sacrifice of a pack that contains all the elements.”

“You said- you said sacrifice.” Stiles said.

Cas nodded. “The last one is always the sacrifice.”

Sam and Dean, now standing at the head of the table looked at one another. “What now?” Sam asked.

Cas was shaking his head already. “If it’s already started, there is nothing that we can do. Those that have been sacrificed, they are beyond even my reach.”

“And if it hasn’t been started?” Dean asked.

“Then we have to keep Stiles safe. Without him, it won’t be complete and whoever is trying to come to power will remain without it.” Cas looked Derek right in the eye. “We have to keep him safe.”


	4. Chapter 4

**[ Playlist ](https://play.spotify.com/user/ymfnm/playlist/7CqUQLTmkwj9aS4Q0uHY0a) **

_**September 1997** _

School was school. Derek didn’t have a lot of friends and he kind of liked it that way. He liked just having a few people to watch out for, a few people who he knew needed him. And at school, that list was just narrowed down to Cora.

Not that Cora really needed his protection anyway. Derek was known around school to fight when the need arose, and they all knew he could handle his own. But his sister, well. She wasn’t above fighting dirty. Nor did she discriminate. Guy or girl, she would fight when she had to. That’s why Derek was ok with Cora hanging around Sam so much. Sam was slight, thin, as a lot of teenage boys were. He hid underneath layers of clothing and that shaggy hair. If it weren’t for Cora, Derek would have been a little more concerned for Sam.

Which brought up the point of _why_ Derek was so concerned for Sam. There were dozens of kids like him, vulnerable looking, fragile, easy to miss if you weren’t looking for them. Derek shouldn’t have been so concerned for Sam. He was one kid. With an older brother to boot, who Derek would bet money could take care of them both in a fight.

But if Derek were being honest with himself, which he was prone to do every once in a while, it was because of that older brother that Derek was concerned. Derek _liked_ Dean. He liked that he was smart but downplayed it. He liked that almost everything Dean did was for Sam. On their first day of school Derek and Cora had picked up on their conversation, on how Sam had asked Dean to go to class, to be nice to the other kids. And to the extent that Dean could be nice, he was. He tried, at least. He had also picked up on the fact that despite Dean being hungry during lunch he hadn’t eaten. This led Derek to conclude, and later for Cora to agree, that they didn’t have a lot of money and Dean was used to giving up things for Sam. So used to it in fact, that he barely blinked at having to do it. Derek had paid for two lunches, had made a big deal about getting served extra, that Dean felt ok with taking some food. Derek knew that Dean would pay him back; that was just the kind of guy that Dean was.

Which brought Derek to the hallway on Sam’s second day of school. Derek had passed him in the hallway earlier, on his way to exchange notebooks in his locker. Class was already in session, the halls were empty, and Sam was hurrying back to what Derek believed to be English.

“I grabbed the wrong book!” Sam said as he passed Derek.

“Me too.” Derek said. He listened to Sam’s feet turn a corner and then another one and then come to an abrupt halt. Derek stopped too, right in front of his own locker. He knew Sam couldn’t be to his locker because his was right by Cora’s and that would mean another turn-

Derek turned and headed in Sam’s direction, knowing already what he would find. He could hear Sam’s heartbeat and he heard it speed it up just as he noted three other heartbeats as well. He picked up his pace, turning the corner and seeing Sam pushed against a locker and three lacrosse players surrounding him. One glanced up at him and then dismissed him entirely.

Derek strolled up to the group, casual and easy, his hands in his pockets and a smile plastered on his face. Maybe this would be something that Derek would fix on his own and Dean wouldn’t have to get involved. Maybe later Sam would tell Dean about how Derek helped him out. Maybe this little confrontation in the hallway would be as far as it would go.

They turned around then, the three of them looking down at Derek.

Derek knew then that Dean would be involved in one way or another.

“It’s none of your business, Hale.” One muttered.

“Actually.” Derek started, “This guy is dating my little sister. I like my little sister. My little sister likes this guy. I like this guy. This _is_ my business.” Derek replied easily.

“Cora isn’t dating this guy.” One of them snarled.

“Who the hell would have that information, me or you? Let him go, and I’ll let you go.” Derek said. Instead of waiting for an answer, he pushed one guy away and jerked Sam to his side. The guy stumbled away, unprepared for the strength in Derek’s shove.

“Listen, Hale.” One of them started. Derek tried hard to remember his name. He often just lumped lacrosse players together as a singular entity but this guy’s name finally came to him. Jesse. “We were just giving this guy a nice Beacon Hills High welcome. You know, show him how things are done here.”

Derek nodded, as though he finally understood. “Oh! Ok. I see what you are getting at. No, I get it now.” Derek nodded again, as though eager to understand what Jesse was telling him. “But how about you listen, instead. This kid has an older brother who I’m sure would like to get the same welcome. Might have seen him, big guy, leather jacket? No? Well, he’ll be happy to get the same welcome today. In the woods behind the field. Right after school. Don’t worry. I’ll be there to make sure we all get _welcomed_ the proper way.”

Jesse narrowed his eyes and looked away. “Fine. The woods, after school. We’ll see you and your new friend there.”

Derek nodded and pulled Sam through and away from the small group and to his own locker. They didn’t speak until Sam was pulling the books out of his locker. “Did you just set up a fight for my brother after school?” He asked softly. He stared into his locker as though it held all the answers. He finally turned to look at Derek. Worry skipped across his face.

Derek frowned and nodded.

“OK.” Sam said. They walked back in silence to their own classes, Derek’s book long forgotten. He took the long way, making sure that Sam was in his class with Cora before he left. Outside the class, he turned to a random locker and pretended that it was his own and clicked through the numbers on the combination.

“Cora, some of the lacrosse players are after Sam. Stay with him. Dean and I will take care of this after school. Sam can fill you in.” He muttered. He knew his sister could hear him and waited until she clicked her pen three times in acknowledgment before he left. It was their secret code. He turned and walked back to his chemistry class, still without his book.

“Forget something, Mr. Hale?” The teacher asked, noting his empty hands.

“Must have left it at home.” Derek muttered and made his way back to his seat, next to Dean. He took his notebook out of his hands, even though Dean was in the middle of taking notes.

“Dude, what the hell-” Dean whispered indignantly.

 _There were some guys in the hall going after Sam,_ Derek scribbled on the pad of paper. _He’s fine but we’ve got some work to do after school._

He watched Dean’s face as he read the note, watched his lips tighten into a thin, flat line and his eyes narrow. _Did anything happen to him?_ He scribbled back.

 _No. But I did promise a couple of the lacrosse players that we would meet them in the woods behind the bleachers after school._ Derek replied. Dean read the note and nodded. They were in their last class before school ended and both of them glanced at the clock. They had a half hour before school let out. Derek could feel the tension vibrating across Dean’s body and he glanced up at him. He was no longer taking notes and people were starting to speak quietly to each other. They were so far unnoticed. Derek knocked Dean’s knee with his own underneath the table. “Hey.” Dean met his eyes. “Welcome to Beacon Hills, right?”

Dean smirked. It was barely there but Derek was glad to see it nonetheless. “Welcome to my _life_.”

Derek wanted to ask more of what that meant, but he figured he’d get a chance later. Dean and Sam were supposed to come home tonight with him and Cora, have dinner with them and their mom, and if things didn’t get too messy, that might still happen. So instead, he kept his mouth shut and finished off Dean’s notes in his notebook for him, glancing up every now and again to see Dean looking at his book with a blank look.

“Hey.” Derek muttered again. A worry struck him, something he had taken for granted upon meeting his new friend. Dean looked over at him. “You do know how to fight, right?”

“Yeah. Dad’s an ex marine. We move a lot. I’m always the new kid.” Dean said in tight, clipped sentences. “This isn’t the first time someone thought they could mess with my little brother.”

Derek understood that tension. He knew what it meant to have to look out for a younger sibling. Cora didn’t like it when he did it, but it didn’t mean that he wouldn’t. It was like a slow fire in his chest that could easily be stoked by a word or a look. Derek just nodded, continued with the notes and waited for the bell to ring.

Word spread quickly, even through their own class. As Dean and Derek packed their stuff up, people parted around them, exchanging uneasy glances. Many remembered the fight from last year Derek had gotten in with a football player who wasn’t able to play after Derek was done. Cora and Sam moved through the crowded halls just as easily, finding their older brothers.

“Dean-” Sam started. Dean shook his head. “I could have taken care of it.” Sam said. “I still can.”

“There were three of them.” Cora said, glancing between the brothers. “No way.”

“Sammy here can handle himself pretty well, actually.” Dean said, nodding at his younger brother. He sounded so sure of himself. “He probably could have but why? Derek was there. I’m here now.” Dean shrugged out of his jacket and handed it Sam. He took off his amulet and looped it around Sam’s neck as well. Sam looked distraught. Cora was already shoving Derek’s books into her own bag. She took his jacket and pulled it on as well. She knew better than to try and talk him out of this. And maybe she was a little upset about the guys going after Sam as well. Derek knew she liked him.

“Dean-” Sam whined.

“I’ll be careful. I won’t get suspended.” Dean shouldered his backpack and pulled his brother close to him and leaned down. “But if anything goes wrong, I don’t want you to help me. Just go home.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed at that. “If it goes wrong, I’m going in there swinging too, Dean. You _know_ what dad says.”

Derek felt as though he was listening in on a very personal conversation. He exchanged a glance with Cora. She raised her eyebrows at him and they both tried to step away but Dean clapped a hand down on Derek’s shoulder. He didn’t look at him, but continued on with his conversation with Sam. “Yeah, I know what dad says. _Take care of your brother, Dean._ ”

“You think he only says that to you?” Sam snapped. Cora tried to step away but Sam grabbed her wrist. His eyes didn’t leave Dean’s face, but Cora’s face was comedy gold. No one touched Cora like that. _“Make sure your brother does his homework, make sure he eats. Don’t let him get into too much trouble, make sure he sleeps.”_

“Wait, is your dad not here?” Cora asked.

“Dad’s out on business.” Dean and Sam said at the same time. The line sounded too smooth, too round at the edges to be anything but practiced.

“What happens if you need him?” She asked. Neither Sam nor Dean looked up.

“We don’t need him.” Sam replied flatly. He was glaring at his older brother.

“We can take care of this ourselves.” Dean agreed. Then he glanced at Derek. “This isn’t your fault. If you don’t want to-”

“This isn’t my fault, but you can be damn sure this is my business.” Derek replied. People were walking by them slowly, glancing at them, measuring the competition. “You guys are our friends and we aren’t going to leave you hanging.”

“ _We_?” Dean said, glancing at Cora. She flashed a grin at him.

“You haven’t seen a real fight until you’ve seen my sister.” Derek shook his head.

Dean pressed his lips into a thin line. “It won’t get that far.” He muttered. He turned and glanced at the doors down the hall from them. He adjusted his backpack once more. “Let’s go.”

They made their way out the doors, a crowd of students following them. It was a ridiculous sight, the four of them leading a small parade of students across the field. Dean glanced over at Derek. “Really, man. You don’t have to do this. Me and Sammy, we got this covered.”

Derek gave him a humorless smile. “I’m not leaving my new friend hanging for a fight that _I_ scheduled.”

They entered the woods, and if it were possible, there were even more teenagers there, hanging around. Usually, when Sam and Dean walked home, the woods were empty. Now they were thrumming with a kind of impossible energy that only happens before something illegal or illicit was about to happen. As one, Dean and Derek shrugged off their backpacks, leaving them at the feet of their siblings. Cora and Sam exchanged looks before reaching down to grab them. It seemed as though both of them had already acknowledged the fact that they might be running soon.

The three guys that had cornered Sam in the hall stepped forward and another two besides them. Five lacrosse players, all of them glaring at Derek and Dean. Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the one in the front. “You the one that had a problem with my little brother?” He asked. He squinted at him, sizing him up carefully.

“Not a problem.” Jesse said slowly. “Mikey and Adam and me here, we just wanted to welcome him to our school. Seeing as he’s a brand new kid here.” He flashed Dean a smile.

Dean smiled back and Derek knew that they were in for some serious trouble. “Well.” Dean said and took a step forward. “I’m a new kid. I’m a little bit bigger than you though. Is that why I didn’t get the welcome wagon?” He glanced behind Jesse at the other boys. “Is that why you brought a couple more friends to welcome me?”

There was something low and dangerous and Derek heard Jesse’s heart speed up. Until now, it seemed that Jesse thought he had this in the bag. He had brought two extra friends to handle Derek, he knew that. Derek was dangerous. But one kid? Jesse probably thought him and one other guy could handle another kid. Even if it was Sam’s older brother. But the seconds thoughts he was having could be clearly read on his face.

“But if this welcome is more than just a welcome and it’s turning into a problem, I can handle that for my little brother.” Dean’s voice was low and soft and Derek knew that if it weren’t for his wolf hearing, he wouldn’t be able to hear him. He knew, other than himself, Cora was the only one to hear the words that Dean was murmuring to the kid in front of him. Derek himself wanted to take a step back, a step away from Dean, and Derek was on _his_ side. Derek watched Dean’s smile widen and there was a gleam in his eye that Derek didn’t entirely trust. “I could handle you and all your little boyfriends back there.”

Jesse glanced over his shoulder and even his friends looked ill at ease. He tried to cover it up with a laugh. “Well why don’t you quit bragging and do something about it? If you think this is a _problem_.”

“I don’t need to brag. I know how good I am.” Dean said with a saucy wink at one of the players. They all glanced at one another. Dean’s swinging moods were making him wildly unpredictable. Derek looked at Sam who gave him an apologetic shrug. Well, Derek decided, if Sam wasn’t worried and didn’t think this was out of character for Dean, then Derek had nothing to worry about.

One of the biggest guys from the lacrosse team stepped forward and pushed Jesse out of the way. “Why don’t you quit talking shit and do something, new kid?” He reached forward, ostensibly for Dean’s shirt, but Dean beat him to it, knocking him square in the jaw without a second’s hesitation. The guy fell back, right on his ass. The crowd cheered. The other boy stood up and three guys rushed Derek.

It was all kind of a blur after that. Derek remembers swinging and punching two of the guys and laying one of them out cold on the ground. He remembered Dean laughing as the big guy stood and went after him, and Dean ducking and dodging like he had been born to do it. Derek remembered being hit by one guy and Dean spinning around at the sound of Derek gasping and pulling the other kid off of him, only to get in a headlock by Jesse. Then, remarkably, he saw Sam step in, and land three swift and solid punches to the guy holding Dean. He must have hit him in the kidneys because the guy immediately fell off Dean and groaned. Jesse stood and went after Derek, only to get tackled to the ground by Sam. Derek’s eyes widened when he saw the kid dodge one punch only to land another on Jesse’s nose, blood suddenly everywhere. Dean stood and clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder, pulling him back slightly.

“That’s enough, Sammy.” He said.

Sam turned in time to see the big guy tackle Dean to the ground. He jumped to his feet, but Derek got there first, pulling the guy off Dean. He held a hand up as Sam rushed to them. “Wait hold on a second, Sam.” He said. He turned to the guy and looked at him. “I’m going to give you two choices. Either you fight Sam here or you run away with your tail between your legs.”

From the ground Dean laughed. He wiped at his mouth and his nose where blood was leaking. “Let Sammy fight him, Derek.”

Derek looked down at Dean and raised an eyebrow. Sam stood off to the side, panting, hands fisted.

Cora stepped forward, pulling her hair into a ponytail. “I’ll take a turn.”

Derek looked at the kid, a senior, older than the rest of them. He raised his eyebrows at the guy in offer. “So. Sam. Cora. Or you turn tail and run,” Derek pulled him close letting a little bit of that wolf strength seep into his grip. “And everyone will remember you as the coward that wanted to gang up on a couple of guys but got your ass handed to you on a silver platter anyway.”

The guy pulled away from Derek’s grip slowly and backed away. He didn’t turn around until he was well beyond their reach.

Derek watched as he backed away and he turned to the crowd. “Go home. We’re done here.”

Jesse was crawling to his feet and one of his friends helped him up. Jesse had a hand to his face. “We ain’t done, Hale.”

“You look pretty done.” Sam snarled and Derek decided he had to reevaluate his thoughts on Sam.

Jesse turned away and walked the same way the last guy had and Dean leaned stood. They all watched everyone leave and collected their bags. They made their way back to the school where Derek’s car was parked. In the front seat Dean flipped the visor down and looked at his mouth. Derek’s eyes fell to his fingers and his mouth that was way too full for a guy.

“Shit. I ain’t gonna win a modeling contract looking like this.” Dean muttered.

“I didn’t know you were modeling?” Cora asked with a snort.

“Kidding.” Dean said but sighed at his reflection anyway. Then he shrugged. “I’m still a handsome bastard.”

Derek laughed and started the car. They started down the road and Sam rolled down his window and stuck his hand out. Derek had to remind himself that despite what he just saw, Sam was still just a kid.

But that didn’t stop Derek from wondering the really obvious things. Like, where were there parents. Both of them had said that their dad was out of town on business, but where was their mom? Why hadn’t she stuck around? Dean had mentioned that he was used to being the new kid, that they moved around a lot. Did that mean that they wouldn’t be staying in Beacon Hills? That things like this, this simple drive with some random indie band that Cora like playing on the radio, wouldn’t be a thing they could do all the time?

The questions flashed through Derek’s mind and he turned off down their driveway.

“Hey, man. This has no bearing whatsoever on our friendship, but are you taking me and Sam out to the woods to kill us or something?” Dean said. “Because I thought my fighting days were over.”

“This is where we live.” Cora said and Derek rounded the corner and the house popped into view. It was old and had been in their family for ages. It was a little formidable at first, huge and rambling, white with blue shutters, a huge wrap around porch and acres and acres of woods surrounding it. But whenever Derek saw it after school, he felt nothing but warmth and comfort.

“Holy shit.” Sam said, craning his neck out the window. “This place is huge, Cora.”

“We have room.” She said. They opened their doors but Dean hesitated, with his hand on the door handle.

“Your parents-”

“It’s just my mom.” Derek replied.

Dean nodded. “Your mom, she isn’t going to be pissed about this, is she?” Dean asked, gesturing to his face and Derek’s hands.

“I don’t think so. She understands that family looks after family. It’s actually very ingrained in her.”

Dean smiled thinly. “But we aren’t family.”

“No. But you’re my friend, Dean. And she understands that Cora and I would never leave someone hanging like that.” Derek tipped his head at the house. “Come on. Meet my mom. You’ll like her.”

Dean smiled. “How do you know that?”

“Because everyone likes my mom.”

~~~

Dean didn’t like Derek’s mom; he _loved_ her. The minute Sam walked into her house, she wrapped him up into a hug. Cora rolled her eyes. She started to do the same for Dean but saw his face and his nose.

“Derek-” She started.

“Mom-”

“Dean-” Sam started.

“Cora-” Dean said, at a loss.

“They started it.” Cora said immediately.

“You always say that.” Talia said and led Dean into the kitchen. She got a paper towel and ran it under some cold water and tipped Dean’s head back. She carefully cleaned around the wound, making sure not to hurt him. She ran her fingers along the ridge of his nose, checking for anything that might have been broken.

“I’m fine.” Dean insisted.

“You come into my house all bloody and insist you are fine. You don’t get to lie to me before we have been properly introduced.” Talia scolded gently. She pressed an ice pack into his hands and turned to Sam. Seeing his knuckles cut, she pulled him to the kitchen sink next. She turned the water on cold and pushed his sleeves up. She rinsed his hands for a moment and then poured some soap over the cuts there, cleaning them carefully. She frowned at Sam’s hands but decided that letting them dry without any bandages would be the best.

“Now, what happened?” She asked, looking down at Sam.

Without hesitation, Sam told her the whole story, from how the boys cornered him in the hall to the fight in the woods. Talia listened without interruption and sighed when he concluded his story. “Lacrosse players are not the classiest guys at that school, I can tell you that much. Well. I guess there’s not much to say. Get started on your homework. Dinner will be ready in a bit.” She shooed them out of the kitchen and into the living room. Cora and Sam took over the coffee table with their chemistry homework and Dean and Derek retreated to the library where there was a large enough desk to accommodate both of them and their algebra homework.

They worked through most of the problems quickly and set the work aside. They started on English next, reading out loud Mercutio and Romeo’s lines to each other.

“Do you think Mercutio had a thing for Romeo?” Dean asked, marking his page.

“Like, he liked him?” Derek asked.

“Yeah.” Dean said. He stared out the window. “I mean, I haven’t had a lot of best friends but it seems like Mercutio was a really big fan of Romeo.”

Derek shrugged. “I guess it’s possible. It’s Shakespeare, man. He could do whatever he wanted. Plus, a relationship with Mercutio would have probably have resulted in fewer deaths and various acts of violence.”

Dean smirked. “Yeah, probably.”

Derek checked his watch. “Wanna go for a walk? We’ve got time before dinner is ready.”

“Sure.” Dean said and stood. He stretched and his shirt lifted up just enough for Derek to see a sliver of tanned stomach underneath his shirt. They made their way into the living room.

“Are you guys done yet?” Dean asked and the twin glares he received were answer enough.

“So no.” Derek concluded. “Dean and I are going to go for a walk. We’ll be back in a little bit.”

“Ok.” Sam and Cora said simultaneously.

Derek quirked his head at the two of them before leading Dean out the door.

“What did you get for number four?” Sam asked.

“Um-” Cora had to flip back before she could tell him the answer. They talked for a few more minutes until Cora was sure Derek was out of earshot. She couldn’t even hear his footsteps anymore. “Sam, can I ask you something without you getting really offended at the very personal nature of the question?” She said softly.

Sam’s eyes flew to hers. “Sure?” He whispered back.

“Is Dean-” Cora didn’t know how to say it. She wasn’t sure of the correct wording or even if this was something you could ask a guy who was fiercely protective of his brother. She was pretty sure Sam wouldn’t get offended, but she _liked_ Sam and didn’t want to lose him as a friend.

“Gay?” Sam finally supplied.

Cora nodded.

“I don’t think so.” Sam said with a sigh. “He’s been with girls. He’s had girlfriends. But I think he’s also had boyfriends.”

“I- really?” Cora squeaked.

Sam nodded. “I would say he’s bi. He hasn’t come out and said it yet, but it’s there. I know it. He knows that I know it. We just don’t talk about it. Is Derek-?” It was Sam’s turn to flounder.

“I think so.” Cora said softly. She knew her mother could hear them, but she hoped that Derek would forgive her. She was pretty sure their mom had heard them talking about Dean and Sam before. Cora also knew that their mom wouldn’t care, as long as Dean was good to Derek.

Sam whistled under his breath. “We are in for a hell of a time, Cora.”

“I think so too.” She replied.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**[ ** Playlist ** ](https://play.spotify.com/user/ymfnm/playlist/7CqUQLTmkwj9aS4Q0uHY0a) **

_**Present Day**_

Just as Dean expected, dinner was awkward. Sam and Cas sat on either side of him and Stiles was across from him. Dean made chicken carbonera and everyone seemed duly impressed. He avoided Derek’s eyes successfully through the entire meal and only contributed to the conversation when he had to.

“So, what I think we should do,” Sam said, picking up his glass of wine, “Is that everyone should take shifts. Derek can have the overnight shifts, John could have the morning shift, the three of us could have the afternoon/early evening shift-”

“We can do it.” Derek said roughly. “John and I. We can handle it.”

Cas shifted next to Dean and leaned forward on his hands. He wanted to say something but held his tongue. Dean glanced over at Sam who opened his mouth and then promptly shut it.

“Ok.” Sam said. “I just figured that if we took shifts-”

“He’s my _boyfriend_ , not a ticking time bomb, Sam.” Derek snapped.

“Hey-” Dean said, stepping into the conversation.

“Stay out of this. You haven’t had anything useful to say up until now, and whatever you do say now isn’t going to solve anything. It’s just going to create more problems. I’ll stay with Stiles. John will stay with Stiles.”

Dean could feel that old anger rising in his chest but he pushed it down. “Fine. You take care of it. You take care of everything. Because so far, you are doing a real bang up job. Four kids missing, your _alpha_ gone, and you don’t have the slightest clue where to start, do you Derek?”

“Get out.” Derek said and stood up. Dean stood as well and faced him for the first time since they’d arrived in Beacon Hills.

Stiles and Cas exchanged a look across the table and they both pushed their chairs to stand. John stood as well, looking worried.

“Derek-” Stiles started.

“No. This is what they _do_ , Stiles. They are just like the Argents, killing whatever supernatural creature they can. It’s just another notch in their belt, isn’t that right, Dean?”

“Do I even have to point the obvious?” Dean said, a look of pure confusion on his face as he glanced to Cas from Derek.

“Maybe angels get a pass because they are on heaven’s side-”

Sam snorted and stood. Derek had to take a moment to realize that the kid he remembered, small, thin and deceivingly fragile looking had grown up to be a man that was taller and broader than Derek in every sense of the word.

“We’ve killed angels, demons, vampires, and yeah werewolves. We’ve killed shape shifters, witches and goddamn knights of hell.” Sam said. He leaned on the table and was closer to Derek than was probably advisable. “We have grown up with this on our doorstep every single night of our lives and we _want to help you_. We have experiences, resources-”

“Castiel? He is your resource?” Derek snorted. “He already said that they are shielded from him and he can’t find them. What good is he?”

“All right, you ass.” Sam said and Derek felt a growl rising in his chest. “What does that mean, that they are shielded? What are you looking for? What shields a person from an angel’s view?”

Derek glared back at him.

“Yeah, that’s right, you don’t know. We _do_. You might have been born into this world, Derek, but we have the experience going back hundreds of years-”

“I. Don’t. Care.” Derek said, he teeth grinding. “I can find them. I _will_ find them-”

“That’s enough!” Melissa said from the doorway. Everyone turned to look at her. Compared to everyone else in the room she looked tiny, as though she were shrinking in on herself. She pointed a shaking finger at Derek. “He may be your pack leader or your alpha or what have you, but he is my _son_. Those kids out there belong to people other than yourself and if you push these men away from helping you-” Melissa stopped herself and put a hand to her throat. Her eyes narrowed and her voice dropped to a whisper. “If you endanger _my child_ , I don’t care how strong you are, Derek, I will rip you limb from limb. And if by some fucking miracle, Scott comes through this without you accepting their help, he will make you an omega, I swear to you.”

She turned back to Cas. “Tell him to stow his crap.” Then she met Dean’s eyes. “I need your help.” She said.

Castiel turned to look at Dean and Dean held his hands up and sat down. His heart wasn’t in the fight against Derek. Cas glanced over at Derek but he was already turning away, grabbing his jacket and heading out the back door.

“Derek-” Sam said and started after him. The door slammed hard enough to shake the frame.

“Dude, Sam. No. Let him go.” Stiles said. “He’s got to run this off or he’ll be useless.” Stiles rubbed his hands over his face. “He’ll be back. Or I’ll go to him.”

Cas went to Melissa and looped an arm around her waist. He murmured soft words of promise to her and walked back to her bedroom. She leaned into him as they headed into the hallway.

“Stiles, I’ve never seen him like this.” John said. His eyes were on the door that Derek had left through.

“It’s because of Dean.” Stiles replied bluntly. He grabbed the bottle of red that was in the middle of the table and took a drink from it. Dean glared at him. “I mean no offense, Dean. I really don’t. But before this, he was fine. Well, ok. Not fine. You aren’t fine when your entire family disappears underneath your nose and you are so fucking lost that you don’t even know where to look.” Stiles looked at the bottle in his hand and took another drink. “I would like to get a little tipsy and tell you guys a story, ok?”

Sam looked over at Dean who looked surprisingly neutral. “Ok.” Sam said slowly.

John stood slowly. “I lived the story. I’m going to go sit with Melissa.”

Stiles raised the bottle to his father’s exit and looked at the two across from him. He laid his head down on the table and said softly, “I miss Scott. He would know what to say to you guys. He would know how to smooth things out between you guys and Derek. And then you five superheroes could fly across Beacon Hills and find the girls. You guys would drive off into the sunset and I would have my life back.” He had his face turned away from Dean but Sam could see the look on his face, like something was breaking inside of him. No one ever told you that when your best friend left, it was like being choked from the inside out. But Sam knew. Sam knew about the nights lying awake, waiting for his brother to come back. He knew about feeling like you were so helpless you were going to crawl out of your skin from it.

“Hey man. If it helps any, I don’t think there are any powers to smooth things out between me and Derek. And I’m banging an angel.” Dean said gently.

Stiles snorted and laughed and then he felt a sob rising up out of his chest. “What Castiel said, he isn’t- I mean, he can’t be wrong, can he?”

“Cas has been wrong plenty of times before.” Sam said consolingly. “Cas has made some pretty fucked up decisions.”

“We all have.” Dean said. He tugged the bottle from Stiles’ fingers and poured some wine in his glass before handing it back to Stiles. “But, unfortunately, Cas is a pretty smart guy. And this prophecy stuff, figuring out lore, he’s pretty much the man.”

Sam nodded. “But the three of us are pretty good at destroying prophecies and tearing lore up.” Sam paused while Stiles took another drink from the bottle in his hand. He stood and got the second bottle and opened it. He set it in the middle of the table within easy reach of both Stiles and Dean. “Tell us your story, Stiles.”

Stiles nodded, took another drink and finished the bottle. He set it down carefully and his hands drifted towards the second bottle. “I guess I always knew about the Hale family. They were well known. My dad had been out to their place after Derek’s dad died, to check on his mom.” Stiles paused. “They were nice. But it was just a passing knowledge. I didn’t know them. Then Scott got bit.” Stiles grabbed the bottle and took a drink. He made a face. He pointed at Dean and Sam. “You guys are best friends. Brothers. You know how it is. Scott was like my right hand. We did everything together, we have since kindergarten.” His eyes drifted down and he picked at a dent in the table. “Scott was, _is_ , my brother.”

“You’d do anything for your brother.” Dean muttered and grabbed the bottle and took a drink. He seemed to have forgotten about his glass.

Stiles nodded. “Scott got bit and this big grumpy bastard swaggered into our lives like he knew everything and could do anything. I hated him. I lost count of how many times I accused this guy of murder.” Stiles shrugged. “But he never did anything that he didn’t have to. He gave up his power, his control, for his sister. He loves Cora so much, that seeing them together, it was seeing a different side of Derek.”

Sam stood and got another plate of pasta. He sat down again, eating.

“I think I had the crush first.” Stiles admitted. “Nothing was ever really said between me and Scott. Just, one day, in our dorm, I was playing some stupid video game and he said, _It’s Derek, isn’t it?_ And you can’t like to werewolves, the nosey bastards. So I didn’t deny it. And Scott, he just picked up the controller and started playing the game with me. And that was it. He just accepted me like that. Like it wasn’t a big deal, like it doesn’t still get some people killed.” Stiles rubbed his face. “That’s who he is. He’s just so fucking _good_. When I would choose to murder the bad guy, he would let them have a second chance. He works with disabled animals for crying out loud.” Stiles sniffed and there were tears in his eyes.

“I didn’t know it at the time, but it was a pack thing. Derek wasn’t allowed to show any interest or anything unless Scott said it was ok. Scott wanted to make sure that I was ok with it.” Stiles gestured helplessly with his hands. “Obviously, I was. And it was kind of sweet, ya know?”

Sam smiled down at his pasta and nodded.

“Werewolves are so fucking weird. They have this thing with smelling. Derek was always smelling me. He was always right next to me. Later, Scott would tell me it was like staking his claim. I smelled like Derek and so I was Derek’s. Same thing in reverse. Whenever another pack would come along, they knew immediately. He’s mine. I’m his.” Stiles shook his head. “I think he got the short end of the stick, but he’s not complaining yet, so I’ll just stick around till he comes to his senses.”

“Don’t talk like that.” Dean chided. “Don’t. Don’t play yourself down like that. I used to kid around like that, ‘Oh, I got an angel, but all he got was this lousy human.’ Until Cas made me sit down and realize that if he saw my value, then it was there, plain as day.”

“Shining like the moon in the sky,” Cas said and sat down next to Stiles, “If I recall correctly. And you have to understand that Derek cares for you deeply, Stiles. He does. Werewolves, they don’t mate lightly. And from what I know of Derek, decisions like this aren’t made on a whim.”

Stiles smiled, mostly to himself. “He’s good. He’s just as good as Scott, but in a different way. He’s ok with doing what he has to do. And he’s nice. Sometimes. I’ve seen it happen.” Stiles insisted at Sam’s speculative face. “I guess my point is that he’s good, but everything happening and then you guys coming back-” Stiles shook his head. “It’s probably too much all at once. Derek hides it, but he’s not normally like this. With the pack, he’s relaxed, happy even. Cora mentioned it once when she came back for a visit. That being with us, being with his family, is the happiest she’s seen him in a long time.” Stiles chewed on his lip and filled his glass up once more. “He mentioned you once, Dean.” Stiles said, turning to face Dean. Dean raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. He said that he thought you were someone he could trust but things never turn out how you think they will. Sometimes people say that’s true about teenagers, but it’s true about everyone. Nothing is as you expect it to be.”

Sam stabbed at his pasta a little too viciously. “He’s willing to bet your safety and all the others safety that he alone can take care of this. What he’s doing doesn’t make sense, but maybe we could drive you to his place and he’ll-”

“I’m here.” Derek growled from the door.

Sam sighed and glanced down at his plate. “Of course you are.”

Cas stood. “John will stay with Melissa for the night. She seems to have settled in. I told her that if she needed me, she could call.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Call or pray?”

Cas smiled. “Is there a difference?”

“You hear prayers?” Stiles asked from his spot on the table.

“As long as you aren’t shielded.” Dean said. He stood as well. “It was good meeting you, Stiles. You and your father. Tell Melissa we’re working on places that the kids might be hidden. If she needs anything,” Dean laid a card down on the table, “That’s got mine and Sam’s number on it. Or you could pray to Cas. Whatever.”

Stiles took the card and slid it in his pocket. “Sure thing, Dean.” Then he frowned up at him. “I was ready to hate you, you know. You are too good looking to be my boyfriend’s ex. I shouldn’t like you.” He left the sentence hanging, like he knew he had already eaten his words.

“Nothing is as you expect it to be.” Dean said, repeating Stiles’ own words back to him.

“Come on, Stiles.” Derek murmured gently, placing a hand on Stiles’ elbow. “Let’s go home.”

Stiles nodded and the group headed to the door, pausing only for Stiles to say goodbye to his dad and Melissa. He locked the door behind him and armed the alarm. In the driveway, he watched Dean climb behind the wheel of a classic black car.

“This is turning into a cliche.” Stiles muttered. He opened the door and fell into Derek’s Camaro.

“You’re the one who is turning into a Winchester fanboy.” Derek grumbled back.

“No, I’m just not going out of my way to be an ass. I want my friends back and you would think that you would take help from Satan himself if it meant getting them back.” Stiles snapped, reaching his breaking point. “It’s like hurting Dean is more important to you than getting everyone else back.”

Derek looked over at him and in the shadow of the car, Stiles couldn’t read his face. “Do you really think that?”

“After tonight? Yes.” Stiles said and crossed his arms over his chest.

Derek nodded but didn’t say anything else. They drove back to Derek’s loft and went upstairs. They got ready for bed silently, brushing their teeth and climbing into bed. Stiles rolled over and stared out at the night sky. Derek reached over and placed a hand on Stiles’ hip. Sensing no rejection, he pulled himself closer and buried his nose in Stiles hair. He smelled like fresh cut grass and summer.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured. “You’re right. I was an ass. I shouldn’t have upset Melissa the way I did and we do need their help.” The last few words sounded pained in Stiles’ ears.

“You haven’t told me what happened between the two of you. And you don’t have to. I don’t want to know how he hurt you. We can’t both hate him. One of us has to be reasonable. So if you have to get away, then I get it. Go. I won’t trap you in a room with him. But please, stow your shit until we get the pack back. Then you can take a swing at Winchester for all I care.” Stiles said and wrapped his fingers around Derek’s wrist, finding a steady pulse there.

Derek sighed. “Ok.”

“Good.”

~~~

When Dean and Cas had officially become a thing (because let’s be honest, _boyfriends_ wasn’t a serious enough term for them), Sam decided that he would forever have his own room. He thought at first he would be lonely, but now he found that he liked it. He could have all the lights blazing and wouldn’t have to hear a grumble of complaints. He could have all the hot water he wanted. He could watch tv and not have to hear someone else whine about what they wanted to watch.

And tonight, even though he had moved to the same hotel as them, he knew Cas and Dean needed their space. He needed his own, as he spread his map over the empty bed next to his and looked down at it. He consulted his laptop, marking addresses where there were abandoned buildings, large buildings that had just been purchased and sectioning off the entire forest. These were the places that kids were most likely being kept. No one would question if they saw someone carving something into a door frame or walking into an empty building with spray cans. He scribbled addresses down on a sticky note to ask the sheriff about in the morning.

He worked quickly and quietly, listening to some college indie station that played acoustic late into the night. He typed up a list of places that he thought would be the most likely places they would find the kids to the least likely. The farther down the list the place was, the more populated the area was. Sam figured that to keep a werewolf and a werecoyote, they would need solitude. Maybe they couldn’t call out now, but that didn’t preclude the fact that they might have been able to call to each earlier.

At the top of the list?

The forest.

While by no means the largest in the state, that honor went to the Shasta-Trinity national forest Sam recalled, it was still way too big for just their small group to oversee, even if they did have a werewolf and an angel on their side.

Sam glared at the map and began to X out all the areas that were the most densely hidden. He used Dean’s table for the topical/geographical and a red marker and hummed along with the radio.

If the music had been any louder, he might have missed the knock at his door. Sam glanced at his watch and was surprised to find that it was two in the morning. He grabbed his gun off the dresser and looked through the peephole.

Sam opened the door, a question on his mouth, but Cas waved it away.

“What’s up, man?” Sam asked.

“Do you have any painkillers?” Cas asked. He looked a little pale and Sam remembered how he looked when he was burning through his Grace.

“Like, whiskey? Or Tylenol?”

“The pills, Sam. Dean keeps a bottle in our room.” Cas said, irritation seeping into his voice. Sam smirked but went to his bag anyway. He knew that Cas had been keeping himself on a tight leash all night. He wondered if that was at Dean’s request. It was obvious that working with Derek wouldn’t be easy.

“What’s the matter?” Sam asked, digging through his bag to find the smaller toiletries bag that was somewhere at the bottom. “I didn’t think full powered Cas would get headaches.”

“Neither did I.” Cas admitted. “But here I am. My head is pounding.” He muttered.

“That’s weird.” Sam said, finding the bag and pulling the bottle out of it. He tossed a bottle of water at Cas and handed the pills over to him. Cas sat on the empty bed and pushed the map over a bit. Sam took a closer look at Cas and couldn’t help but note the slump in his shoulders and the way his eyes looked a little more pinched than usual. Without thinking, he put his palm to Castiel’s forehead.

Cas held still but looked confused. “What are you doing?”

“Man, you have a fever.” He said. “It’s not high, but what the hell?”

“I do not.”

Sam went back to his bag and pulled out a thermometer he kept in there from back when he was going through the trials. Dean had insisted on it. He placed it to Castiel’s forehead and ran it down to his jaw.

Sam snorted. “Yeah, you do. It’s not too bad, just 100.1, but it’s there.”

Cas shook out three pills, hesitated, and shook out another one. He tossed them back with half the bottle of water.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked. He took a chair at the small dining table across from bed.

“Just like I said. My head.”

“You are a shitty liar. What else?”

Cas frowned. “The Host. It’s getting harder to hear.”

“What does that mean? I thought that once you got your Grace back, everything was all good?”

Cas took another drink of water. “Well, no Sam. Everything is not all good. I can’t return to Heaven and even if I’m not hunted, I’m still shunned. I have no one to ask about this.”

“Not even Hannah?”

“We did not part on the best of terms. From what I can gather, she was demoted after our stunt with Bobby.”

Sam winced but wasn’t sorry. “Maybe it’s just a bug.”

“I don’t get bugs.” Cas said quietly. He stood and nodded at Sam. “I need to go inform Dean. If anything is to change-”

Castiel was interrupted by a large crash down the hall and a shout. It sounded like Dean.

Cas made it to the door first, his blade already in hand. Sam was on his heels, his gun up and ready.

They made it to the hallway in time to see three large men shove their way into Dean’s room.

“Shit.” Sam said, and rushed down the hall.

~~~

Stiles jerked awake when the alarm went off. He rolled off the bed and reached for the gun he kept taped to the underside of the mattress and aimed it at the door. Derek was already there and when he turned to Stiles, he saw Derek’s eyes flash blue. Derek placed a finger to his lips and Stiles nodded. He didn’t move but he didn’t lower his gun either. The alarm continued on, grating on his nerves. Derek was almost to the stairs when they heard the elevator doors open and they saw something crash into the steel door, denting it.

Derek took three steps back to Stiles. He remembered asking Scott to try and break down the door and Scott had barely moved it. Whatever was on the other side of the door was stronger than Scott.

He threw Stiles shoes at him and he opened one of the windows to the fire escape outside. He pushed Stiles through it and went after him. He snatched up his keys at the last second and followed Stiles down the escape and into his car that was parked across the street from them. Stiles shoved his feet into his shoes as Derek started the car up and steered his car automatically towards Scott’s house. They needed numbers, they needed their _pack_ -

“Shit!” Derek said, realizing what he was doing and punched the steering wheel. In the middle of the street, he spun the wheel around and slammed on the gas and turned the car to the hotel that Sam had mentioned earlier that night. “Shit!” He said again and pressed down on the gas as Stiles scrambled for his belt.

Derek hated that he had to run to the Winchesters for help the day after they arrived, but if it meant keep Stiles alive along with everyone else, that it just meant one more piece of his dignity he would have to sacrifice. Derek pulled into the parking lot next to the big black car Stiles had seen earlier and made his way into the lobby and walked up some stairs like he knew exactly where he was going. At the end intersection of a hall, he stopped and tipped his head to the side and sniffed. He turned left and Stiles was once again weirded out by werewolves and their ability to sniff out just about anything.

“You should be glad that you can’t smell like I do.” Derek muttered. “This places is beyond gross.”

“Oh, ew.” Stiles said, glancing at some of the rooms they were passing. They were coming up on another hall and even Stiles didn’t need werewolf senses to figure out where the Winchesters were. There was a crash and someone shouted and the sound of another door being thrown open. They exchanged a glance and Stiles pulled out his gun and charged after Derek. Stiles noted his claws were already out and he could hear the grumble of a roar starting in his chest. They passed by another room where the door stood open but was empty. The source of the noise was four more doors down and both Stiles and Derek headed straight for it. Inside, Sam was on the floor, his gun pressed to a werewolf’s stomach and pulling the trigger over and over again while dodging the other guy’s claws. Derek reached him first and picked the guy up and threw him into the wall behind him.

Castiel shoved a very tall, willowy blonde away from himself and when she ran back at him, he pulled out this shiny looking sword that Stiles had not seen in his hand moments earlier and stabbed her viciously in the chest. She roared and while Cas had her pinned, Stiles pressed the gun to her forehead and pulled the trigger twice, in quick succession. Derek picked her up and threw her into the guy that was trying to get up. Cas helped Sam to his feet and then stepped out of the way as Dean tackled the last guy in the room to the floor between Cas and Sam and Derek and Stiles. Derek and Stiles watched as Dean hit the guy squarely in the jaw and heard the distinct sound of the last guy’s jaw snap. Stiles winced at the sound. The guy stumbled back into the other two.

Dean stood and pulled a knife out of the back of his pants. Stiles noted, with some interest, that that was the only thing Dean was wearing. Stiles wasn’t faring much better. He had gotten his jeans and shoes on but that was as far as he got before being pushed out on the fire escape.

Derek’s eyes snapped to the doorway and he growled, low and dangerous in his chest. “Dean.” He said, the words sounding a little slurred for his teeth lengthening. Cas stepped forward, next to Dean, the shiny sword still in his hand. Derek nudged Stiles behind him and Sam slipped another magazine into the gun he was holding. “Stiles.” He said and tossed him another magazine. Stiles caught it easily and slipped it into his pocket.

Four more people ran into the room, almost stumbling over the body that was by the door. From the angle where Stiles stood, he saw that Dean was grinning wildly. One more guy stepped in and Stiles looked at him for a long moment.

“Isaac?” He said slowly.

“Stiles!” He said jovially and instantly Stiles knew there was something wrong with this guy.

“That’s not Isaac.” Derek said. His face showed nothing but disgust. “Oh god, what have you gotten _into_?”

“Actually.” Isaac said with a chuckle. “It’s not what Isaac got into. It’s what got into Isaac.”

“What are you-” Stiles said and tried to step forward but was stopped by both Derek and Dean. Then he got a closer look at Isaac and saw his eyes.

Black. His eyes were completely black.

“What the fuck.” Stiles stated simply.

“Sam.” Dean snapped. “Cas, you ready?”

“Yes, Dean.” Cas said softly. Stiles wouldn’t agree. Even in the dim light, Cas looked… off.

Dean stepped forward and four of the wolves snapped at him.

What happened next was simultaneously the coolest and most terrifying moment of Stiles’ life. It was the moment that he would forever after measure how awesome something was.

Derek roared, which was cool, yeah.

But then there was a clap of thunder so loud that it shook the room and Stiles glanced over at Castiel to see him lit up a dangerous blue so bright it was white. And where those-

“Wings?” Stiles whimpered.

In front of Stiles and to his right, Dean shouted, “You will show me obeisance!”

To his left, Sam raised his hand and shouted at the remaining werewolves, “ _Recedebat enim ab eo_!” And they were all thrown from the room.

In front of Dean, Isaac knelt, his head bowed. “What are you doing to me?” He said and it sounded like it was hurting him.

“Sammy, the door.” Dean asked. He stood over Isaac, panting.

“What is going on?” Stiles asked slowly.

“Stiles.” Derek said and he stood up straight.

“Don’t.” Sam said softly. He shook his head and walked over to a duffel bag at the foot of the bed. He pulled out a silver flask and handed it over to Dean.

“Who sent you?” Dean asked.

“I’m not telling you anything.” Isaac spat out, but he didn’t get off his knees in front of Dean. Nor did he look at him in the eyes.

Dean gripped Isaac’s chin forcefully and made him look up. Whatever was in the flask, Dean poured it down his throat. Isaac screamed.

There was almost no time for Derek to transform but he rushed Dean anyway. Dean didn’t even look up and Sam raised his hand to Derek.

“ _Prohibere_.” He said softly. Derek stopped in his tracks.

“What are you _doing_?” He growled.

“Saving your friend.” Cas said.

“Tell me your name.” Dean demanded.

“You don’t control me.” Isaac snapped.

Everything was happening so _fast_.

“Let me go!” Derek shouted.

“Not until you are in control.” Sam said softly.

“Your name.” Dean said.

“Jacob Jingleheimerschmidt.” Isaac said and laughed.

Dean poured whatever was left of the flask down Isaac’s throat and splashed some on his face. Isaac screamed again. He was smoking but his skin underneath was fine. He tossed the flask away and leaned down to Isaac’s height. He leaned in close enough to kiss him. Isaac looked like he wanted nothing more than to run from Dean.

“I command you. To tell me your name.” Dean said slowly.

“Dean?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, fine.” Dean said and when he stood and turned to Stiles and Derek he could have sworn there was a flash of black in his own eyes. But when Stiles looked again, Dean’s eyes were green again. Dean stepped away from Isaac and Sam took his place.

Sam placed a hand on Isaac’s head and turned to Cas. “Ready?”

Cas nodded, eyes focused only on Isaac.

Sam took a deep breath and began to recite, “ _Exorcizamus te, Omnis Immundus Spiritus, Omnis Satanica Potestas, Omnis Incursio Infernalis Adversarii, Omnis Congregatio et Secta Diabolica, Ergo Draco Maledicte, Ut Ecclesiam Tuam Secura, Tibi Facias Libertate Servire, Te Rogamus, Audi Nos!”_

Isaac threw his head back and screamed again, this time a noxious red smoke pouring from his mouth. Cas swooped in as soon as the smoke burned away and scooped Isaac up in his arms. Isaac stiffened and groaned. Derek collapsed against whatever was holding him and Stiles realized that he was shaking and his vision was swimming and he wondered if he was going to puke.

“Daddy?” Isaac said, looking up at Cas. “Derek?” He said, trying to place Castiel’s unfamiliar face.

“Shhh…” Cas said and he lit up blue again. It was softer this time and Stiles found himself leaning into it. “You’re almost there.”

Derek pulled back and came over to Stiles. He looped an arm around Stiles’ waist and Stiles was grateful. He wondered if he was going to pass out. Sam went over to Dean and began to help him throw things in his duffel bag.

“We gotta get my stuff from the other room.” Sam said.

In Castiel’s arms, Isaac turned his head and coughed and there was blood on his teeth. Cas helped him sit up. “Better?”

Isaac looked from Cas to Derek and over to the Winchesters and back to Derek. “What happened?”

Dean shook his head. “Not now. We have to go now. We’ll explain later.”

Cas helped Isaac to his feet and Isaac stumbled over to Derek and Stiles who helped him down the hall and then into Derek’s Camaro. Stiles buckled him in and then met everyone between the two cars.

“We have to get out of here.” Derek cocked an ear. “The cops are coming.”

“Another hotel?” Sam suggested.

“No. Stiles’ dad’s house. They won’t be looking to the sheriff to house criminals.” Derek said.

“All of us?” Dean asked.

“Do you have any other ideas?” Derek asked, irritated. Stiles realized that Cas, Sam and Derek had no shoes on.

“Guys we gotta go somewhere. Now.” Stiles said. “You can figure something out later. Right now, my house.”

Dean glared at the ground and nodded. “Fine. We’ll meet you there.”

Derek and Stiles got into Derek’s car and Sam and Dean climbed into the Impala. Cas sat in the backseat.

“Did they see?” He asked quietly.

“I thought Stiles did, but no.” Dean said. “I don’t think so.”

“You have to watch it, Dean.” Sam said.

“I know. I’m tryin’.”

Derek left the parking lot and Dean followed behind.


	6. Chapter 6

[ ** Playlist ** ](https://play.spotify.com/user/ymfnm/playlist/7CqUQLTmkwj9aS4Q0uHY0a)

_**September, 1997**_

Derek stepped out on the porch first. Behind him, Dean pulled the front door closed. Dean surveyed the land around them. You couldn’t see the road from where they were and it was quiet. Derek went down the steps and Dean followed. There were a bunch of different, worn paths that led out into the woods but Derek headed for one on the left, into the trees.

The didn’t talk at first and Dean liked that. He liked just being with people. Sam understood that. He understood that Dean didn’t always want or have to talk and that’s why he let Dean hang out with him when he was doing his homework. Sometimes, just the simple act of being with someone was enough to convince Dean, however temporarily, that this life was worth all the shit he went through on a day to day basis.

And that was what was nice about Derek. He didn’t open his mouth every time an empty silence presented itself. He was quiet by nature, and didn’t seem too interested in changing that. So as Dean followed him deeper into the woods, he got the opportunity to pretend that this was normal; that he had arrived at a new school, made some new friends, and his new friend was showing him some of the cool spots he had found while he lived here.

Underneath a huge old tree, Derek stopped. He looked up and Dean followed his gaze. There was a tree house up there, painted green, shrouded by branches. The paint was peeling in some places, and the boards looked questionable. “That’s Cora’s. My dad built it for her before he died.”

Dean was silent for a minute. He didn’t ask the obvious question. “Can I go up?” He asked.

“Just be careful. I’m not too handy and my uncle Peter is pretty useless so I’m not sure how safe it is. Cora hasn’t been up in awhile either.”

Dean approached the tree and placed his hand on the initials carved into the trunk of the tree.

_CH_

“That’s sweet.” Dean muttered. He placed his hand on one of the boards nailed into the tree that acted like a ladder and tested it before pulling himself up. He pulled himself up and into the tree house. The boards were mostly solid but Dean saw a couple above him that were rotted almost all the way through. There were some tattered curtains that might have been blue or green at one time but now were mostly gray and eaten through. There were a couple of built in shelves and an rickety chair that looked like it really wasn’t safe. There were three windows but only one looked like it needed to be reframed. The floor needed a new coat of paint, for sure.

Dean stuck his head out of one of the safe windows and looked down at Derek.

“I can fix this.” He said.

“Really?” He asked.

“Yeah. It looks pretty simple, actually.” Dean said. He ducked out of the house and started down the boards once again. As he stepped down on the second one from the top, it cracked ominously and Dean saw the one his hands were latched on split between his hands and then he was falling.

It wasn’t a long drop and he landed flat on his back, knocking the wind from his lungs. The world blurred for a minute and Dean forgot how to breathe for a second and then Derek was there, kneeling over him, his hand on Dean’s chest.

“Dude, breathe.” Derek said calmly.

Dean sucked in a breath and the world cleared and he coughed, hard enough to rattle his chest. “Jesus.” He said. He rolled over and Derek’s hand slid from his chest to his arm.

“Ok?” Derek asked, still even and calm.

“Yeah. I think we should probably put in a new ladder.” Dean said.

Derek stood and stuck out his hand. “Come on, big guy.” Derek pulled Dean to his feet with a surprising ease.

“You’re pretty strong for a scrawny guy.” Dean said, rubbing his chest.

“I’m not scrawny.” Derek said. Dean stood up straight and looked down at Derek. Derek noted that Dean was taller than him, by at least two inches. He also had broader shoulders. “Shut up.” Derek said. “Everyone is scrawny compared to you, you freak.”

Dean laughed. “Where are we going?”

Derek nodded down the path that they had been traveling. “We’re almost there.”

Once more, Dean followed Derek. But he couldn’t help but think of light, warm weight of Derek’s hand on his chest, on his arm. He blinked, shook his head. He wasn’t going to go down this path again. With girls, it was different. It was like his dad expected him to do the things he did with girls. And he knew his dad had his suspicions about the guys, about some of the stuff he did for extra money, but it was like a deep unspoken whisper between them. Dean didn’t bring it up and his dad never gave voice to his thoughts. He felt his face heat up, but to Dean, guys or girls, they were inseparable in his mind. He had given up on himself a long time ago, trying to “fix” himself, and tried to push the thoughts away when it came to guys.

When this stuff surfaced, he usually found the first available girl. They weren’t hard to find. Dean knew how to work the whole “mysterious bad boy” thing. It was second nature. It was _easy_.

What wasn’t easy was when guys like Derek came along. To Dean, Derek was the kind of guy he naturally fell in line with. Tough, easy to talk to, easy to be silent with, but warm. Derek was warm.

Dean shifted his eyes from Derek’s back, from his easy stride, from his shoulders that moved underneath his thin shirt. He licked his lips and turned instead to the trees and the grass that lined the path they were on. Derek didn’t say anything and neither did Dean.

After awhile Derek turned and glanced back at him. “You all right?” He asked.

“Yeah, why?” Dean asked.

Why? Derek could hear his heart. Derek could hear how his heart was beating faster than this easy hike required and how Dean was struggling to even out his breathing.

“You fell pretty hard. I was just wondering if you let any air out of your head too.” Derek said and smirked.

“You ass.” Dean replied but there was that broad grin again.

Derek blinked and turned back around. What Cora had implied a few days ago, about wanting to jump Dean’s bones, echoed faintly in his mind. He didn’t try to analyze the thought any further than that. Yeah, he was attracted to Dean. Anyone with eyes in their head would be. He was classically handsome, for god’s sake. He was like the poster boy for summer with his tan skin and light brown hair and freckles. And out here in the woods, alone with Derek, he seemed more relaxed than Derek had previously seen him. As they neared their destination, the trees became thinner and Derek slowed down so that Dean was walking next to him and Derek could see what the shadows and light looked like on his skin and hair.

Derek swallowed hard. He was so glad that Dean wasn’t a werewolf, because the things that his heart was doing were not normal. He felt like one of those cartoon characters who’s heart pops out of his chest when he sees the pretty girl rabbit. The sheer amount of pheromones wafting off Derek were going to send every single wild creature in the nearest mile away. Derek knew Dean couldn’t smell it, but he smelled like a wild predator staking his claim.

Then they stepped out of the forest.

“Lake” would have been too grand a word. Pond was probably a more accurate word. It was deep in the middle, fed from some underground spring. It was cold for most humans, but Derek and Cora swam in it usually until early November.

“Whoa.” Dean said. There was a dock for a single boat that was moored on the shore and the entire thing was surrounded by gritty sand and wildflowers and trees. “This is amazing.” Derek watched as Dean approached the shore and dipped two fingers in the water. “Cold. But I bet it’s amazing in summer.”

“It’s pretty nice.” Derek agreed. He wandered over to the small dock and Dean followed, trailing his fingers across the yellow wildflowers and thick grass that surrounded the shore. Derek heard him stop but he kept going until he was able to sit at the edge of the dock. He didn’t put his feet in like he normally did but instead turned to watch Dean. He had his face tipped back, the sun lighting him up like he was blessed on high or something like that. Derek couldn’t help but smile. Cora did the same thing, sometimes. She would stop and just revel in being alive. Sometimes it was like what Dean was doing now, soaking up the sunshine. Sometimes it was when they were on a run and they would stop and she would hold completely still, listening to the animals around there and just be alive and still for a long minute. Derek wondered if Dean felt the same things that Cora did. She tried to explain it once, that there was something so peaceful, in just being quiet and alive and thankful. She shook her head when she explained it to him and said that she was saying it badly.

But Derek could see it. He could see how firmly rooted Dean was in being alive _now_. How, for one long moment he wasn’t having to worry about Sam or what they were going to eat. Dean hadn’t laid that out for Derek to see but it wasn’t hard to discern. Their dad was away, their mom was gone, so Sam fell to Dean. And Dean fell to Sam, Derek supposed, but in a different way.

Derek watched as Dean came back to himself, piece by piece. His fingers flexed and the smile on his face flickered. He probably felt Derek watching him, because his heart sped up. He finally opened his eyes, blinked, and smiled at Derek. He walked over to the dock and sat next to Derek. He gave him a stupid grin and turned to the water.

After a minute, Dean asked, “Can I ask what happened to your dad?”

Derek squinted at the water for a second before saying, “A hunting accident. He was shot.”

Which was the truth, except for the accident part. His dad had been on a run in the woods in Marseille, France and there had been some hunters in the woods. They hadn’t known until the first arrow killed Laura. Talia had been forced to shift all the way back to human to carry her oldest child out of the forest. Derek’s dad, Alan, had shoved Derek and Cora in a different direction and the last words he ever said to either of them were, “Take care of your sister.” Then, he let out a howl and taken off running in the opposite direction. Derek and Cora watched in horror as he left them, alone, in the forest. There had been a long second before either one of them remembered to move. They ran, almost all the way to Spain where Derek knew there was a safe house waiting for them. The family there had taken them in, fed them, and put them on a private plane back to the states. Their mother arrived a week later with their sister in a coffin. Their father’s body wasn’t found until months later when the same family that had taken Derek and Cora in found him on a run of their own. Talia explained it away by saying that on their vacation, the family was separated from each other and both Laura and Alan had died as a result. It was plausible and the lie still pounded away at Derek’s head.

“How old were you?” Dean asked quietly. Derek watched Dean’s fingers stretch out for a second and wondered if Dean was going to touch him. It seemed like part of his nature; the touching. He had seen it with Sam and even with Cora. He had seen how Dean had leaned into his mother’s touch, like he was hungry for a gentle hand. But instead, Derek watched Dean’s fingers curl back into his palms and felt a little let down. Maybe Dean wasn’t the only one starving for touch.

“I was twelve. Cora was eight.” Derek answered. That part he could answer honestly. Laura had been fifteen.

Dean winced. “That’s rough, man.”

Derek nodded and looked out over the water. “Is your mom around?” He asked.

Dean pursed his lips and looked down at his own hands. “Uh, no. No. She died when I was four. Sammy was six months old.”

“Jesus.” Derek said. Losing his dad had hurt but at least he had gotten some time with him. He could remember the way he grinned and the stubble on his chin and his booming voice. Derek could still recall laughing at his dad when his dad would let Cora pin him in a wrestling move. He could still remember his dad teaching him how to control the shift, things he had taught Cora. There had been time, time that Derek could be grateful for.

“It was a fire. She went into Sam’s nursery, where it started, to get him out. Dad went in after her but he was too late. Sam and I got out.” Dean said. “That’s my first memory I have of my brother. Carrying him out of the fire.”

Derek’s breath caught. “You _carried_ him out of the fire? You were four years old!”

Dean nodded but didn’t say anything. He clenched his fists and prayed Derek didn’t say that he was a hero, that Sam should be happy he has such a great older brother, that they were _lucky_ . Those words always hollowed Dean from the inside out. He understood, intellectually, that he was only four years old at the time but he still felt that a _real_ hero would have been able to get everyone out. Then he could have had a little bit of Derek had, a house, a normal school life, friends outside his brother, a _life_.

 _But then-_ a voice whispered in the back of his mind. But then if that were true, then he wouldn’t be here with Derek, in Beacon Hills. He would be back in Kansas, working on algebra or on the phone with someone or learning how to drive the Impala in an empty parking lot. He wouldn’t be leaning back on his hands in the last vestiges of summer, letting the sun warming his skin and the wind telling him that the winter coming was going to be a killer. He wouldn’t be here with Derek, trading stories and listening to the water hit the shore softly. He wouldn’t see the yellow and purple flowers on the shore, the pale green grass that grew right behind them. He wouldn’t be able to look forward to the weekend where he knew him and Sam were going to lay around and watch Star Wars for the four hundredth time.

Dean was aware that all lives had a trade off. He was aware that for all the things he knew, the meals he cooked, the excitement his life led, the bond he had for his brother, that he had paid a very dear price. But that price seemed distant sometimes to what he had right now, a small precious moment where everything was ok. That it was ok that he felt this way for his new friend, that his new friend had this adorable habit of looking up at Dean through his eyelashes and leaned into everything Dean said. That it was ok for him and Sam to be alone for so long, that it was ok that Dean was more of a parent that John was. This was just a trade off.

“Your mom.” Derek continued on and shook his head. “Man. That’s a lot for a kid.”

Dean shrugged. “I have pictures.” Dean caught the look that Derek shot at him. “I know it doesn’t sound like a lot. I miss her everyday, I do. But sometimes, I don’t know, you have to be ok with stuff because there isn’t any other way to survive.”

“Is that what you tell yourself when it’s just you and Sam?” Derk asked bluntly, not with any malice, but curiosity. “That it’s ok?”

Dean paused to gather his words. He hadn’t had a conversation like this since he had seen Bobby two summers ago. Finally he nodded and lowered his gaze from the water to his hands and to the warmth gathering between him and Derek. “It’s ok.” He said softly, gently. Whether it was said to himself or Derek, he didn’t make clear.

“Well, you have us. For however long that you’re here, or you want to be here,” Derek glanced back the way they came. “You have us.”

Dean nodded and smiled but didn’t meet Derek’s eyes. “I don’t know how long you are going to be at your family thing this weekend, but if you get back early, me and Sam are just going to be watching movies if you want to come over and hang out.”

Derek’s heart tripped and he didn’t pause to think why. “Yeah. Yeah that sounds good. I think we’re supposed to be back early Sunday morning, so maybe later on that day?”

Dean finally met Derek’s eyes. They were gray. Maybe. Sometimes they looked like an impossible blue or maybe even green like his own. He didn’t smile because he forgot, just for a second, that he was in a social situation where maybe flirting wasn’t appropriate. And he watched the smile on Derek’s own mouth, a mouth that Dean had given thought to on more than one occasion late at night, melt away.

Dean wasn’t sure how long they would have stayed like that or maybe if something else would have happened, ( _please god, let him lean into me just this once)_ but instead a duck landed with a splash in the pond and Dean blinked and the moment retreated.

“Sunday is good.” Dean said quietly.

Derek looked down at his watch. “Dinner is probably almost done. You ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Derek got to his feet first and offered Dean a hand up. Dean could get used to this. Because he had been wrong earlier, Derek wasn’t scrawny. His strength was just hidden behind an unassuming nature and an easy smile. Derek pulled him up and there it was again, as they were facing each other. It was a moment, long and quiet, the stupid duck in the pond splashing around the light falling and fading around them. Dean was not mistaken, he knew it. He knew Derek was looking at him the exact same way Dean was looking at him. The pull was there and it was irresistible to not just lean forward a bare inch and taste what Derek tasted like. Dean thought wildly of blueberries and the ocean and rippling sea grass and broken glass sprinkled on black pavement. Dean felt wild, and for the first time in a long time, he felt free.

Derek was all but choking on the need to push Dean into the forest and taste his skin and feel what Dean was offering. He wanted his palms against the flat of Dean’s stomach, on the planes of his face. Want was quickly pushing into need and he had to remind himself to anchor himself to a thought but it was Dean, right in front of him, with that mouth that Derek was dying to touch with his fingertips, just to see if Dean would lean into that touch like Derek thought he would. Derek clenched his hands into fists and he was surprised that what he was feeling wasn’t a shift but it was just Dean that was making him feel untamed and like he could run for days and days and look behind him to see that yes, Dean was still there. Derek wanted, god he _wanted_ , more than anything to reach out to Dean and reassure himself that Dean felt as solid as he looked and wanted this as badly as Derek did.

Because Derek knew that Dean was full of want. What he wanted was varying but right now, Dean wanted what Derek wanted and that was just to touch, to feel, to be a part of something that would always be greater than the whole.

“Do you want to go?” Dean asked gently, softly.

Derek hadn’t looked away from his eyes for a single second and when he stepped forward, he heard Dean’s heart beat even faster. Dean smelled like adrenaline and the night and clean sheets and sunshine. And Derek allowed himself one small thing, one thing that meant more to Derek than Dean would ever know.

He stepped even further into Dean’s space and gave Dean a moment to step back. Instead, he watched Dean’s mouth soften and his eyes widen slightly but he didn’t move. Derek stayed there a second more before taking another small step forward and he felt the warmth of Dean’s hand on his hip through his thin shirt. Derek did the same, finding the space where Dean’s boxers met his skin, above his shirt and placed his hands there. Then he leaned forward and this was not what Dean thought it was.

Derek let his head fall into Dean’s shoulder, where his neck met his collarbone and took a deep breath. He breathed deeply into what Derek would forever know as Dean. Derek would never know how to label it, just that it was earth and leather and spice and something so singular that Derek would never forget it.

“Rain.” Derek muttered.

“What?” Dean asked, confused that Derek had reached, for all intents and purposes, for a hug.

“You smell like the earth after its rained.”

Dean tipped his head and opened his mouth like he was going to say something but Derek stepped away and his eyes flicked back to the path that they had just come down. Cora crashed through the underbrush first, with Sam running at her heels, both of them laughing.

“I got you!” Sam panted and pointed his finger at Cora.

“You did not!” She said and started giggling. They both turned to their brothers who were watching them with matching confused expressions.

“Tag.” Sam said. “I got her shirt on the way here but she’s being a cheater.”

“You didn’t get me!” Cora said with a heady laugh. “Mom wants you guys back. Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Ok.” Derek said and let Dean go first, if only to watch the easy swing of his shoulders and his slow gait.

Sam reached out, pushed Cora and yelled, “You’re it!” And took off the way they had come.

Cora growled and ran after him.

Derek and Dean were silent, picking up the pace from their earlier walk towards the pond.

“He likes it here.” Dean finally said. “Sam. He likes your sister too.”

Derek nodded. “I can tell. He’s a good kid. He would be good for her.”

Dean hummed and then said, “That’s not how Sammy is though. Sam, he doesn’t- I mean-” Dean stumbled over his words before stopping himself and gathering the words. “Sam doesn’t go for like, boyfriend/girlfriend relationships. He isn’t built that way.” Dean shrugged and Derek watched him, fascinated. “I don’t know. He doesn’t like the romance part of it. Not like most kids his age but it actually makes him really, super uncomfortable.”

“Wow.” Derek said, the only thing he could reply with.

“Yeah, I know. So, don’t think he’s going to go panting after Cora, because he’s not. He’s just not. I’ve seen the prettiest, sweetest girls throw themselves at Sam and get nowhere.”

“Are you sure it isn’t because they’re girls?” Derek asked quietly.

“No, it’s not that either.” Dean replied evenly. “He just doesn’t go for it. But his friends. The friends he makes? He’ll go to the ends of the earth for them. He’ll fight for them, lay down and die for them. He’ll take the blame for shit he didn’t for them. So anyone that can count him as a friend is lucky.”

“I hope that’s Cora for him.”

“It is.”

~~~

When they got into the house, Talia was setting dishes out on the table and Cora was putting glasses on the table. She glanced up at Derek when he came through the door and blushed. Derek knew he positively _reeked_ of Dean and Dean was just as bad off.

“Dean, Sam’s down the hall washing up. Wanna join him?” Talia suggested gently.

“Yes, ma’am.” Dean said and went down the hall where Derek could hear splashing water.

Derek made a beeline for the sink where he set to scrubbing his own hands and hoped the talk that was coming wasn’t actually coming.

Talia leaned against the sink and looked down at her son, her eyebrows raised. Her dark eyes traced Derek’s face while he studied his hands covered in soap and the water running over them. Finally she said, “Any pack within a fifty mile radius wouldn’t go near either one of those boys, Derek.”

“Mom-” He whined.

“I know, Derek.” She said softly. They both were half listening for Dean and Sam to finish in the bathroom. “I _know_.” She said more meaningfully. Cora stopped pretending to fix the silverware and not listening and just watched her mom and brother.

Derek remained silent but it was hard not see the blush that was staining his neck and cheeks, werewolf or not.

“Fine. Do your silent act. I just want you to be careful.” She said. “For both him and you.”

The water down the hall shut off and Talia closed her mouth. She pushed herself off the counter and opened the oven. She pulled out some rolls and began dropping them in the bread basket. She smiled at Dean and Sam when they came through the door.

“Can I help you with anything, Mrs. Hale?” Sam asked politely and Talia raised her eyebrows and Dean saw the striking resemblance between mother and son. “That’s a first. A kid offering to help?”

“Mom!” Derek and Cora echoed at the same time.

Talia laughed and patted Sam’s arm as she walked by him to the table. “No, Sam. Thank you though. We are all set.”

Sam smirked at Cora. It seemed he had scored a point in some game him and Cora were engaged in. “Sure thing, Mrs. Hale.”

They all sat down and Dean had a moment of panic when he wondered if Derek’s family was religious and they prayed or something before their meal. His panic was soothed as Derek plucked a roll from the basket and handed it to Dean. It seemed like Derek was the starting point of getting first pick at the meal, then Dean, then Sam, followed by Cora and finally Mrs. Hale. They were silent until Talia frowned at what Dean had taken. “Dean. You are a growing boy and if you don’t put more on your plate, I will have to throw this away. I planned a meal for four teenagers and I expect the four of you to eat.”

Dean opened his mouth, unaware of the fact that he had only taken the absolute minimum of what would keep him from getting hungry until bedtime. “Oh, uh, yes ma’am.” He said and Derek picked up the bread basket and handed it off to Dean who was being closely watched by Talia. He frown didn’t dissipate until she felt he had enough piled on his plate. Sam and Cora were already eating but Derek and Talia waited until Dean had a full plate before they started in on their own plates.

“So, Dean.” Talia said slowly, carefully cutting her chicken. Dean and Sam turned their eyes to her, wary. “How are your parents liking Beacon Hills so far?”

“Well.” Dean said slowly. “My mom passed away when we were little. Sammy here was only six months old and I was four.” That was usually the tactic that worked with getting people off the subject of the Winchester family. It was always hard to explain away his father’s extended absences and how Dean handled being alone with Sam and feeding them both and getting them to school.

Talia’s dark eyes flicked down to her plate and she nodded. “I’m so sorry.”

Dean and Sam exchanged a look. They agreed that they hated doing this to people; using their mother’s death as a way out of the conversation of their family business. “We were pretty little.” Sam said slowly, gently. Talia met his eyes and Dean could practically see her melting under his strong-but-puppy-dog eyes. “And we’re ok. We get by, right Dean?”

“Yeah.” Dean agreed, scooping some macaroni up on his spoon. “And we like it here. I mean, we got the welcome wagon and everything.” Dean said with a wink at Cora. She snorted.

“Speaking of which.” Talia said, using her fork to gesture to Dean’s face, who was the only one to sustain any injuries. “How are you going to explain that to your father?”

“Well-” Dean started and nudged Sam underneath the table.

“Dad’s ex-Marine.” Sam picked up easily. They had this act down like it was the easiest thing in the world. Most of the time it was anyway, but lying to Derek’s mom felt _wrong_ somehow. “He taught Dean and I how to fight pretty early on. Sometimes he’ll get us up early on weekends to run drills. Fighting is-” Sam shot a look at Dean that clearly said _help_.

“Dad was a combat instructor. Fighting isn’t a big deal to him. I think he thinks if we don’t fight at least one time in high school, we’ve failed some kind of manly man test or something.” Dean said, the truth tumbling out of his mouth without a second thought. He blinked and pulled himself up short at his own words. He hadn’t mean to reveal so much of the truth to Talia in one little sentence.

“Well, I have half a mind to call the principal and have a discussion with him about it. These two were there and Derek was involved.” Talia said casually. It wasn’t a threat, just a thought she wanted to share with them.

“That’ll make it worse, mom.” Cora said. “We get those guys in trouble, the entire lacrosse team will come after us. They were the starting team.”

“Hmm…” Talia said and neatly cut a piece of chicken while Dean and Sam watched her with wide eyes. There was a quiet power to her, something that was barely leashed, something that demanded your respect and attention. “And if I were to speak to their parents?”

“I, uh, don’t know.” Cora said. She seemed unsure of what her mother was asking her.

Talia narrowed her eyes at Dean and Sam. “Do you think that they will cause any more trouble?”

Sam swallowed his food and shook his head. “I’m not sure. I don’t think so.”

Dean shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Talia’s frown deepened. “If this happens again, to any of you, I am speaking to someone.” She promised.

“Yes ma’am.” Dean and Sam said at the same time.

Derek and Cora could only nod.

“Enough about that. Dean, what does your father do?” She asked, trying to head for a lighter subject.

“He’s an arms dealer.” Dean said, coming up with his usual cover story. “There is supposed to be a big sale coming up soon so he’s setting up Napa for the week. He should be back sometime early next week.”

“So you’re alone this entire week?” Talia asked, putting her silverware down and looking at Dean.

“Yeah. But we’re used to it, so it’s not a big deal.” Dean said hurriedly. “Sammy and me can take care of ourselves.” Dean felt like a broken record, saying the same thing over and over.

“I understand that, but-” Talia seemed at a loss. “I just-”

“Mom.” Derek said softly.

“Are you ok?” She finally asked.

Dean had the overwhelming urge to tell Talia everything. That he constantly worried about how much food they had, if the money they had would last until their dad came back because he honestly didn’t know when or even if he was coming back, that he worried that he wasn’t going to pass trig even with Derek’s help, that he really needed a computer for him and Sam to work on their homework. That he needed to know where the cheapest laundromat was so him and Sammy didn’t have to wash their clothes in the bathtub (again), that half the school day he spent hungry because he didn’t eat lunch, that he was tired and he was only eighteen fucking years old.

Instead, Dean swallowed everything back and tried to calm his heart that was pounding away at his chest and he nodded, a smile plastered on his face. “Yeah.” Dean said. “We’re good. Right Sam?”

“Good as gold.” Sam muttered. He shoved a forkful of chicken in his mouth.

Talia didn’t look convinced.

~~~

After dinner, they all loaded back up in Derek’s car and Derek headed into town, to the library. He took the small side street that led to the little house behind the library. He parked in front and Cora and Sam jumped out.

“Dude, I have to go inside.” Cora said.

Sam pulled his key out of his backpack. “Yeah, come on in.” He said. He let them in and they closed the door behind them.

Derek surveyed the small house, blue and white paint and all. “I like it.” He said finally. “It’s cozy.”

“It’s claustrophobic.” Dean replied but didn’t argue any further. He shrugged. “It’s fine.”

Derek shook his head at Dean.

“What?” Dean asked, a little irritated. First all the questions and now he got the feeling Derek was laughing at him.

“Man, you can’t take a compliment for nothin.” Derek replied.

Dean opened his mouth but realized that Derek was probably right and shrugged again.

“I’m sorry.” Derek said.

“For what?” Dean asked.

“My mom, back there. She gets overprotective about kids. She has this ideal that everyone should have a carefree childhood and all that.” He explained. He thought for a minute. “I think it’s because my dad died when we were young and a lot of stuff just kind of fell to me. It wasn’t like, hard, or anything. It was just,” Derek paused and met Dean’s eyes. “It was ok.” He said finally.

“No, it’s nice. To have someone ask for once what happened when I came home from school like this.” Dean said and gestured to his mouth. His lip was still cut and a little puffy. Derek’s eyes lingered there and when he met Dean’s gaze, he knew that Dean had seen him pause over him.

“Your dad doesn’t-?”

“Dad’s not around. He checked out when mom died. I’m gonna be honest with you Derek,” He snorted, “It’s been me and Sam and a fucking chauffeur for the past thirteen years.”

Derek’s eyes widened when he heard the anger in Dean’s voice. He could smell the despair on him too, something that he hadn’t felt in someone as young as them.

“Dean-” Derek started.

“So I was thinking about the next couple days. I think we should stick together. The four of us, I mean.” Dean said suddenly. He was desperate to change the subject. He talked to much to the Hales and he couldn’t figure out why. “I would hate to be caught alone in gym with my pants around my ankles and seven angry lacrosse players.”

Derek’s brain stuttered when he thought about Dean with his pants around his ankles. He swallowed and Dean smirked, slowly. He knew exactly what he had just done. “Yeah.” Derek said, clearing his throat unnecessarily. The subject was successfully changed. “Yeah, you’ve got a point.”

He came around the side of the car and started to the front door. He paused, with his hand on the knob. He looked behind him, at Dean. Dean stood there, waiting for Derek to open the door and Derek let his eyes drift from Dean’s shoes all the way up, lingering for a longer second on his shoulders and lips than needed and listened to Dean’s heartbeat speed up. It was Derek’s turn to smirk and as he made his way into the house, he heard Dean mutter behind him, _“Tease_.”

Derek couldn’t help but laugh at him.

Inside, they found Cora and Sam in the kitchen, both munching on an apple a piece.

“Didn’t you both _just_ eat?” Derek asked.

“We’re growing children.” Cora said.

Sam nodded and took another bite.

“Come on, Cora. Mom wanted us home. Apparently we have to _clean_.” Derek said.

“Ugh. Are you sure we can’t hide here?” She asked, even though she jumped off the counter she was perched on. Sam couldn’t help but notice that she liked to sit on things that were up high.

“Sure. If you want to risk mom’s wrath, we can do that.”

“Let’s go home.” Cora said immediately.

Cora and Derek took the five steps from the kitchen to the front door and Sam went to the back bedroom to put his stuff away. Cora went to the car and fell into the front seat and Derek paused at the small stoop.

“Sunday?” He said softly.

Dean nodded.

“I’ll see you then.” Derek said softly.

Dean shut the door and turned to see Sam lingering in the small hallway that led to the bedroom and the bathroom. He raised his eyebrows.

“What?” Dean asked, irritated.

Sam remained silent.

“Ok, what? Spit it out.” Dean said.

Sam laughed and shook his head. “We’ve been here all of three days and you’ve already got Derek wrapped around your finger.”

“I do not-”

“And half the girls trailing after you at school.” Sam said.

“That’s not true.” Dean replied. In all honesty, he hadn’t notice. He flopped down on the futon and reached for the remote. Homework done, dinner over, he faced the rest of the night with a strange sort of restlessness that he hadn’t felt before. Sam headed for his room, a book in hand. Dean switched the channels restlessly, finally settling on some mind numbing movie about a poltergeist. In his mind, he listed all the way the family had gone wrong with it and how easy it would have been to take care of from the start. After awhile, he turned it off and went to go brush his teeth. He passed the small room that Sam was in, saw that he was asleep with the book in his hands. He plucked the book from his hands, marked his place as a chapter before because that’s the sort of thing big brothers do, and covered him up. He checked underneath Sam’s bed for the shotgun with rocksalt packed in it and pulled the covers over him. He turned the light off and started to get ready for bed.

In the futon, underneath a mound of blankets, he was able to look out the window. It was Thursday and the moon was almost full.

Dean sat up, closed the blinds, and fell asleep.

~~~

Dean slid into his desk the next day and raised his eyebrows at Derek who walked in a second later.

“I thought you guys were taking off today?” He asked.

“After lunch.” Derek said. He shrugged. “My uncle Peter decided to crash the party so he needs the morning to get his shit together.”

Dean nodded and leaned back in his seat. The teacher walked in just then and Derek passed a pen back to Dean. Dean took it, even though he had one in his bag. He rolled it in his hands, still warm from Derek’s touch. The classed passed restlessly slow and Dean kept watching the clock. He was feeling anxious and edgy for some reason and kept shifting in his seat. He couldn’t place a name to it, but he felt like he wanted to get out of the school and just run. If his dad had left the Impala it would have been one of those days when he put Sam in the passenger seat and drove until he could rid of the itch between his shoulder blades that he couldn’t quite reach. Dean could see from the tense line of Derek’s back that he was feeling much the same way. But he was Dean’s opposite; where Dean couldn’t help but fidget, Derek held still, a remarkable act of will if he was feeling anything like Dean was.

Derek could feel Dean’s restlessness and he wondered why it was. He knew why he wanted to leave this place and head for the woods; it was why they were leaving town for the weekend. He was going to spend it in the northern most part of the state in a forest where no one could find them and come near them. He was anxious to pull down a kill, something strong and wild, to feel the hot burst of copper against his tongue. He pushed it back and in his mind he whispered to himself, _Wait, wait it out._ He took a deep breath and forced his shoulders to relax, to slump against his seat as he normally would.

Behind him, he heard Dean eventually relax, his breathing even out and his shifting around in his seat stop. Derek’s thoughts made a quick turn when he realized that as soon as he was able to relax, Dean was too. He kept his breathing even and slow because he didn’t want them both to get worked up again. But this, this sharing of emotions was done through a claim that a werewolf made on a human. This was not the norm, by any means. He had known Dean less than a week and had barely even touched him.

Derek needed to talk to his mom.

After class the two parted ways, Dean heading to gym and Derek to chemistry. Derek hesitated at the steps and Dean noticed and stopped as well.

“I was kidding yesterday.” Dean said. “About the locker room thing.”

“I know.” Derek said defensively.

“Ok.” Dean said. “Then what’s the hold up? You got chemistry.”

Derek blinked, wondering when Dean had the time to memorize his schedule. “Yeah, I know. It’s just-”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I get it, man. I do. But I think I can survive one gym class under adult supervision with Jesse without you. I’ll be fine.”

And Derek knew that he would be. He _knew_ that. He knew that Dean could take care of himself in any situation. But it didn’t make the parting any easier. “Yeah, ok. Lunch?” He asked.

“I’ll be there with bells on.” Dean said, walking away.

Derek watched as Michelle Gomez joined Dean in his walk down the hall and couldn’t help but feel his lip curl as she linked her arm through his.

“ _Dean Winchester, when are you going to leave Grumpy Face back there for some real fun?”_

“ _Ah, darling, that means admitting that I don’t have any fun with Derek and I’m a man of my word.”_

“ _What kind of fun do you_ have _with Derek?” Michelle asked, a weird note in her voice. She was starting to sound like a strangled cat._

“ _If you’re asking if me and Derek are a couple,” Dean said gently, tensely, “Then the answer is no. But if you’re asking me to leave my friend out in the cold for someone that is a dime a dozen, then the answer is also no.”_

Derek listened to Michelle’s heels click the opposite way of the gym.

~~~

Dean passed Cora and Sam as they headed from trig to history. He raised his eyebrows to Sam. Sam gave him the slightest of nods and they continued on their way.

“Was he asking how you were?” Cora asked.

“Yeah.” Sam said as they stopped at Cora’s locker and she pulled both their history books out of her locker, took their math books from Sam and they went down the hall.

“Derek does the same thing. It can get annoying but sometimes its helpful.” Cora said. Sam passed her a pen as they sat down. “There were a couple of girls spreading rumors about me last year and sometimes it was like Derek was my only friend.”

“That’s what its like when Dean and I go to a new school. Most of the time he’s the only one I know.” Sam said.

“Do you know how long you plan on staying here?” Cora asked.

The teacher walked in and Sam could only shrug. “With our dad? No way of telling.”

Cora wondered what their dad was like to earn so much derision from both his sons. What she remembered of her dad was usually something bright and fun. Something laced through with love. But every time the subject of fathers came up, in class discussions, between her and Sam, she could see his eyes darken and his facial expression shutter closed. She had learned to carefully avoid the subject after only a week with Sam and Dean.

At lunch they all sat together, Dean’s notebook from chemistry open as he carefully copied down Derek’s notes.

“Are you _studying_?” Sam asked as he sat down. Dean had a bagged lunch in front of him that Derek had abandoned in the hopes of finding something better at the cafeteria line.

“Not so much studying as copying.” Dean muttered. “Apparently this teacher likes to grade on whether or not we have taken notes. And Derek’s notes make more sense the damn teacher.”

Sam watched, astonished, as Dean put his pen down and highlighted a few things in his own notebook. His opinion of Derek went up a few notches. If it went any higher, he was going to be right up there with Dean.

Cora sat down, her pony lunchbox in hand. Dean opened his mouth to make a comment but shut it when Sam kicked him under the table. Dean went back to his notes. Derek sat down last, a tray piled high with french fries and burger. Dean reached over and snagged a few without a word. Derek frowned at him. Dean grinned at the notes, knowing that Derek was glaring at him.

Cora and Sam exchanged a look.

“Mom said that she would have the office call us.” Derek said as he dug into his burger and fries. “And all she said was some time after lunch.”

“Does uncle Peter _have_ to come with us?” Cora whined.

“If I could make it so that he didn’t come with us, I would.” Derek muttered. His uncle’s moods were off putting during their weekend runs.

“I thought this was a family thing?” Sam asked.

“It’s supposed to a be a family-we-like thing.” Cora said. “But apparently his plans for the weekend fell through and now he’s going to pout with us while we try to have fun with him.”

“Sounds delightful.” Dean muttered and pulled a ham sandwich from the bag in front of him. “But hey, it’s just a day and a half, right? Shouldn’t be that bad.”

“You haven’t met uncle Peter.” Derek said. His eyes darkened as he watched Jesse and a couple of other lacrosse players lean over their table and, as one, turn to Derek’s table. Cora turned at the same time and Derek heard the small growl in her chest. She was good at her control, one of her best for her age, but there were things, people that she was protective of. Despite the fact that Derek and Cora had seen Sam fight, he felt that protective instinct in her rise and he had to nudge her with his foot under the table.

“Not here.” He said to her back. “Not in school.”

It was an easy comment that could be taken in any kind of way, but Cora got the message. She turned back to her brother and continued eating. She kept her eyes down and Derek knew they were flashing gold.

“Do you think they meant it?” Cora asked Derek.

“Yes.” Dean replied. Derek wasn’t even aware that he had caught the look between Cora and the other boys. He didn’t even look up from his notes. “Guys like that don’t like being humiliated. And a kid Sam’s size kicking his ass? You can bet that he’s going to come back looking for seconds.” He pushed the notes away. “But he’s going to come back with a bigger crowd on his side.”

“You don’t seem terribly worried.” Cora remarked.

“I’ve fought bigger.” Dean said softly. There was something in Dean’s eyes that made Sam shift uncomfortably and Derek caught it immediately.

 _Their father_.

This time, it was Cora’s turn to give Derek a look.

Lunch was pretty quiet after that.

~~~

After lunch Derek and Cora heard their name being called over the PA system as they headed to their lockers. They both looked up and then turned back to Sam and Dean.

“Watch yourself.” Derek said, a frown on his face.

“Go on.” Dean said and nodded down the hall to the office. “We’ll be all right.”

Derek nodded and hesitated. Cora threw her arms around Sam’s neck, unabashed in her affection. They were in the middle of a crowded hall, so it also had a double meaning to anyone else. _He is mine,_ it said. Derek had never envied anyone so much as he envied his sister the ease that she could show affection. Sam returned the hug, wrapping his arms around her middle. “Are you going to come with Derek on Sunday?”

“Naturally.” She said. “He needs supervision.”

Sam laughed out loud and Cora let go of him. “Take good notes in chemistry, Winchester. I’m counting on you.”

“Yes, captain.” Sam said and they both turned from each other and headed in opposite directions.

Derek and Dean faced each other in a quickly emptying hallway. “So, um, I’ll see you on Sunday?” Dean asked. He hated how needy he sounded but this is what Derek had reduced him to in less than a week.

“Yeah.” Derek nodded. He felt the need to pull Dean closer to him, to bury his face in Dean’s neck one more time before he left. And it was stupid. They were going to be gone for less than two days and he would be back and hanging out with Dean all day Sunday. So instead Derek quirked a grin at Dean. “I’ll be the one with the bells on.”

Dean’s eyes glazed over for a moment before he shook his head. “All right, Hale.” Dean said, shaking his head. A shiver went down Derek’s spine at the name he used. “Sunday. Just come over whenever. We’ll be at home all day.”

Derek grinned and began to back away. “Looking forward to it.”

Dean was left speechless in the middle of an empty hall, watching Derek leave.

~~~

That night, Dean cooked and then after the two of them were full they laid on the futon, fighting each other for more room.

“So does Cora know your deal about relationships and all that?” Dean ventured finally, getting bored with the movie on tv.

“That I don’t do relationships?” Sam asked, chewing on an orange. “Yeah, I told her.” Then, “Why?”

“You just seem closer with her than anyone else I’ve seen you with in a long time.” Dean shrugged. “I just wanted to know.”

“She gets it. I think that’s why I let her get away with all the hugs and touching.” Sam paused. “Have you noticed that the Hales are very… _tactile_?”

“Tactile?” Dean repeated slowly.

“Yeah, like very connected with the sense of touch-” Sam started.

“No, I know what tactile means, you nerd.” Dean said. Then he shrugged. “I guess so.”

“Even their mom.” Sam said, his eyes drifting to the window behind Dean.

“I’m not expert on moms, but I’m pretty sure they are all touchy feely like that.” Dean replied, turning his attention back to the tv.

“Is Derek like that?” Sam asked.

Dean looked at his brother. “What are you asking me?”

“If Derek is tactile.” Sam said flatly, arching an eyebrow in a way that Dean hated.

“Derek hasn’t felt me up, no, if that’s what you are asking.” Dean said.

“That’s not what I’m asking. Have you noticed that he goes out of his way to touch you?” Sam pushed.

Dean paused and watched the images on the tv but didn’t put much thought into what was happening on the screen. He thought of all the times that Derek’s fingers had brushed his own when they handed their notes back and forth, how Derek sat right next to him so that their thighs brushed underneath the table in chemistry. He remembered the almost-kiss that turned into Derek hugging him in a way that felt more intimate than any kiss he had ever experienced. He remembered the way Derek had buried his mouth and nose into Dean’s neck, breathing deeply, desperately.

“Dean?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Dean said slowly. “I guess he is a pretty tactile guy.”

~~~

That night was their first night running. Talia held her shift back all the way so that she was still able to talk in her regular voice. Her claws were out and there was fur, sure but she could hold her entire shift back all the way. There was something she had to do first.

“Mom, can I?” Cora asked, trying to hold her own shift off.

“Stay within a couple miles of us.” Talia finally relented.

Talia listened as her youngest felt the rush of the shift and she bounded off, alone, for the first time. Peter had long since left them. He was so far away that Talia couldn’t even hear him running through the underbrush. She turned to Derek who was sitting on the ground, legs splayed out in front of him.

“What is it?” She finally asked when she realized that he wasn’t going to talk without a little prompting.

“Something happened earlier-”

“Did you use protection?” Talia asked immediately.

“I- what? No! Not that, mom, geez.” Derek said and didn’t look up. _Oh god,_ Talia thought, _it’s worse than sex_. She had never wished harder for her husband than she did just then. Talia sat down next to Derek.

“What?” She said softly, nudging him.

“In class earlier, I could feel the moon. You know, how it pulls at you?” Talia nodded and waited for Derek to continue. “I always want to run, right from the start. From when I wake up on the day of the full moon, I want to run and run and run.”

“That’s normal when you’re young.” Talia said.

“But it makes me edgy. Tense. I can’t stop moving in class and it makes me restless.” Derek said. “And I couldn’t-” Derek stopped himself and thought for a moment, his eyes moving over the trees and the plants. He could smell the dirt underneath his hands and caught the scent of a deer a mile away. “When I was sitting in class and feeling like that, I felt the same tension from Dean. Like he was restless and needed to get away from something. Or run to something. He was practically jumping out of his seat from it.”

Talia dug her claws into the dirt between them and nodded. She thought of the best way to explain this to her son, a child that, she felt, understood more than he ever let on. Someone that she knew felt deeper than he let others know. “I don’t know what happened when you two were on the dock. You don’t have to tell me. I trust you.” Talia said and met her son’s eyes and saw the worry edging there. “Dean’s not in any danger. He’s not.” She insisted. “But you have just made a deeper connection with him than you meant to.” She stopped and looked out at the woods as her son did a moment earlier. “It happens. It’s normal. It won’t happen more than two or three times in your life, but it will happen. It happened to me when I was in school, with my friend Sarah. She knew about me and she always just thought it was her fear of me getting hurt during a full moon that she would feel these things. It happened stronger with your father before he was bitten. He used to say that he would wake up and he could feel it in his chest that it was the night of a full moon.”

“What does it mean?” Derek whispered.

“It means that you care for him, deeply. And the feeling is very much mutual, otherwise he wouldn’t be feeling the same things that you were.” Talia said, feeling warmth bloom in her chest, like a howl rising from her throat. She liked Dean.

“If they stay, can I tell him? Do you think he could handle it?” Derek asked. Talia had to wonder what the real question was, laying underneath the tangle of his words.

“If you think that it’s the right thing to do, yes. Tell him.” Talia paused and regarded her son for a moment. She knew that she could easily get the truth from Dean Winchester. She wouldn’t ever push his mind that far, but she knew that it was right there underneath his surface jokes and charm. “Do I think he can handle it? I think, Derek, that Dean has handled more in his life than either one of us know.”

Derek nodded and looked away. “Is he safe?” He asked, the slightest tremble in his voice.

Talia gathered her son in her arms and held him for a long moment. He leaned into her chest and listened to the steady beat of her heart. She smelled like lotion and baking bread and their home. “Baby,” She whispered in his ear, “It’s the saddest secret of growing up; but none of us are safe. Least of all the people we love.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

[ ** Playlist ** ](https://play.spotify.com/user/ymfnm/playlist/7CqUQLTmkwj9aS4Q0uHY0a)

_**Present Day** _

There was a stiff silence on the way to Stiles house.

“Guys, look. I know we’re waiting until we get to the house to talk, but who were those other guys?” Isaac asked.

“The Winchesters and their angel.” Derek replied curtly.

“And should that mean something to me…?” Isaac trailed off. He pulled himself up into a sitting position.

“Derek dated the pretty one when he was in high school. They have a shared history that we don’t touch with a ten foot pole.” Stiles replied eventually. Derek growled low in his chest. Stiles gestured at him and looked at Isaac.

“Got it.” Isaac said.

At the house, Derek offered Isaac a hand up to the porch but he waved it off. “I’m fine.” He said. Isaac followed Stiles up the walk, Derek behind him. Dean, Sam and Cas pulled up a moment later and when Stiles raised a hand to knock on the door, John pulled it open.

“Boys.” He said. He was already wearing his uniform, no doubt on his way to the hotel. He pulled Stiles into a hug and then Isaac. John pulled back after a second and said, “I should probably know why you are here. Later, though.” He hugged Derek as well and ushered them in the house. He waited at the door for the Winchesters and showed them in as well. In the kitchen, John nodded down the hall. “Melissa is still asleep in my room. Stiles, you and Derek take your room. Isaac, you can have one of the guest rooms. Dean, Castiel you can take the other one. Sam, if you don’t mind taking the couch?” John said, snapping out orders like he was used to having them followed.

“Sam can have the guest room.” Cas said. “Dean and I will take the first watch.”

John opened his mouth and then closed it. He rubbed his hands across his face and Dean realized that it was almost three in the morning. “I’ll ask later why you need to have watches in place. But is there anything absolutely pertinent I need to know before I go out there?”

“There’s a pretty big pack hunting us. They split into two teams. One for the loft and one for where they were staying.” Derek said.

“I murdered one of them that Sam had flayed.” Stiles said softly. He blinked at his own words. His father stared at him, not comprehending his words.

“Was it you or them?” John asked slowly, approaching Stiles.

“Yes.” Stiles whispered. “Why don’t I feel bad for killing someone?”

John looked up to Derek and frowned. “Because they were going to kill all of you, Stiles. You made a decision and you can stand behind it.” He kissed Stiles on the forehead, roughly. “Go get some rest. I’ll be back in the morning and we can talk this out.”

He gestured for Dean to follow him to the door and out to his patrol car. He got in and unlocked the door for Dean who sat in the passenger seat, looking bewildered.

“Werewolf hearing.” John said, gesturing at the house. “I have learned, through a number of embarrassing mistakes, to cover my ass.” He looked troubled and turned his eyes to the house. Dean wished Sam was there. He always seemed to know what to say to people that wanted to talk but didn’t know where to start.

Instead of saying anything, Dean chose to stay silent and look up at the house. After a beat he finally said, “I can’t imagine how Melissa is handling this. Stiles mentioned that it’s been just her and Scott for awhile now.” He chewed on his lip, wondering how much to reveal. “I saw everyone I loved killed in front of me, you know. Once. Cas, Sam, the guy who basically raised us. All of them, just,” Dean snapped his fingers and the irony was not lost on him, “Gone.”

“But they came back.” John said, a note of hope in his voice.

“There was a price. A huge price and it set into motion things we had no clue how to handle.” Dean said. “Cas, Sam, me; we all paid a price that we didn’t have the means to settle. You know what I mean? We sacrificed things that we didn’t know we had, things that were important to us, things we never thought we would lose.”

“Your innocence.” John stated.

Dean mulled the words over and finally nodded. “I guess you could say that.” He looked over at John’s face, lit up by the blue of the laptop in front of him. “But we didn’t have a lot to begin with. I killed my first shifter when I was twelve. Sam shot his first witch when he fourteen. The summer after we left here? That’s when my dad started in on his training, molding us into soldiers for his own personal war. Sam and me, we didn’t have a life outside of this. Sure, Sam got the whole college experience for awhile but he told me even then he was still hunting. This, this whole thing, it’s just another day at the office for us.”

“What are you saying?”

“Stiles has something that we never did.” Dean said gently.

John looked over at him.

“He’s a good son. You are a good father. The best part is that you both realize that.” Dean said.

“He’ll be all right?” John asked, the question he’d wanted to ask for the longest time. Since he had first found out about Scott being a werewolf, he had wanted to take his son aside and ask him _Are you all right?_

“He’ll be fine. Not tonight. Maybe not even this month, but he’ll be all right. He’s got you, he’ll always have you. And Derek.” Dean added as an afterthought.

“The two of you, being in one house-”

“It’ll be fine.” Dean promised. He opened his door and nodded at John. “Have a nice night, sir.”

John started the car and left the house, proud that he only looked once in the rear-view mirror.

Dean paused at the Impala to grab his bag out of the trunk. He slung Sam’s over his shoulder and a few other supplies went into another.

Inside, Cas was carving sigils into the door frame. Sam was doing the same at a window. Derek watched both of them, a look of utter confusion on his face. “This house is already warded.”

“Against werewolves, yes.” Cas said. “But not against demons.”

“I thought we got rid of it.”

“One, yeah.” Sam said as Dean entered the house. Dean tossed Sam’s bag to him. Sam caught it easily in one hand and set it at his feet. “But there are so many of them that it’s hard to put a number to them.”

Dean dropped his bag near the couch, on the floor. The third bag he kept and made his way to the kitchen. As he passed Cas, he ran his hand through his hair and gave him a small smile. Cas smiled back, the action made more endearing by his hair sticking up everywhere.

In the kitchen, Dean set the smaller bag on the table and Stiles watched him, a glass of water in his hands. He crept closer so that he was peering into the bag on the table. He saw stakes, guns, flasks like he had used on Isaac, and other things Stiles couldn’t identify at first glance. Dean finally found the bag he was looking for, leather and drawstring. He opened it and pulled several chains out. He handed one to Stiles over his shoulder without looking back.

Stiles took it and inspected it before looping it over his neck. Once there, he looked at the symbol again. “What is this?” He finally asked.

“Anti-possession symbol. It keeps the demons out of you.” He handed two more chains to Stiles. “One for Melissa, the other for Isaac.” Dean paused and said, “Unless Isaac has the triskelion on him?”

Stiles’ brow furrowed. “How did you-” Then he stopped but not before Derek came into the room.

“He doesn’t.” Derek nodded at the necklaces in Stiles’ hand. “Make sure he wears one of those.”

Stiles looked hard at Dean who was digging in the bag again. He pulled out a switchblade and turned away from the other two as if they didn’t exist. He went to the back door and began to carve sigils below the ones that already existed.

“What about you and Sam?” Stiles asked.

“Tattoos.” Dean said.

“And Cas?”

“Angel.”

“Derek?”

“Triskelion.”

Realizing that he wasn’t going to get much else out of Dean, Stiles sighed and left.

“You could be nicer to him.” Derek muttered. He felt petulant, out of place.

Dean put the blade down on the counter near him. He stared at his hands and realized how unsteady he felt. How almost out of control he was. “He’s a good kid. He’s smart. I’ve got nothing against him.”

“But me-”

“You are part of the equation. Part of the problem that we are used to solving. Just like everyone else in the household.” Dean picked his blade up and began to carve again. “And we will figure it out, like we always do. Because no matter what you might think of us, we’re the best at what we do.”

Stiles reentered the room, Isaac behind him and then Cas. The four of them stood and watched Dean carve the remaining sigils into the door frame before Dean finally turned and said, “What?”

“What’s the plan?” Stiles finally asked.

Dean looked down at the blade in his hand and shrugged. He sat at the table and then stood up. Cas saw that he was restless, that he needed to move, to fight something, instead of being struck at again and again. Dean made his way over to the coffee pot and turned the water on. “Stiles, where’s the-?”

“Here, let me.” Isaac said, nudging Dean out of the way.

Dean gave up his small task and leaned back against the counter instead of sitting again. Stiles sat. After a moment, so did Cas. Sam came in and looked around. “Is this it? Is this command central?” He asked.

Dean gestured to the table. “My two war captains.”

Sam left the room and came back with a map. “I’ll be your navigator for the evening.”

Isaac started to dole out the coffee. “Command central and the mess hall.”

Derek sighed and pinched his nose. “Can we be serious for just one second?”

Sam shot a look at Derek that was just this side of a glare. “We all almost died this evening. If you ask me, that’s pretty serious.”

Derek threw his hands up in the air. “That’s what I’m talking about. We need to move, we need to do something.”

It was easy for Cas to see how Dean and Derek would have made a great team, personal or otherwise. They moved the same, had the same balance and swagger to their walks, the same mindset. Sam looked at Cas and rolled his eyes. “We learned a long time ago, Derek, that if we can’t keep it light sometimes that we might as well just give up the fight right now. You have to remember what you are fighting for.” He spread out the map on the table.

“Oh, I love maps. So visual.” Stiles said, reaching out and untangling some of the red string that Sam had used on the map earlier. He helped smooth it out on the table and everyone came over to look at it. Stiles studied the map and looked up at Sam. “You are so much better at this than I am.”

“I can teach you the ways, Padawan.” Sam said.

“Finally, someone who has seen Star Wars.” Stiles said.

Isaac sipped his coffee and studied the map. Sam had marked all the obvious locations down but he shook his head. “They aren’t in town. The little that I can remember, they were in the woods. Like, way out there.”

Derek looked up at Isaac from where he was peering at the map. Sam and Stiles already had markers out and were crossing off the places inside the town. Then they moved the map so that the topographical area of the map was in front of them.

“You remember-” Derek asked.

“Just bits and pieces. When that thing inside me would get lax, I could get small pieces. They are keeping the others in the woods.”

Derek and Stiles exchanged a look, the same thought going through their heads. “Can we try the hypnotizing thing again?” Stiles asked.

“No.” Castiel replied, looking at the map in front of him listlessly.

“We’ve done it before.” Derek said. “He can handle it, it will work again.”

“It worked before because he was in full ownership of his body, correct?” Cas said.

“He was drugged.” Stiles admitted.

“Was there another being in his body?” Cas asked.

Isaac watched the conversation unfold around, looking mildly interested. He handed a cup of coffee to Dean who gave him a silent salute.

“No, it was just him.” Derek said. “And a lot of drugs.”

“This will break his mind and probably kill him if you try it.” Castiel replied, looking hard at first Stiles and then Derek.

“Well, hey now-” Isaac interrupted.

“It didn’t last time.” Derek insisted. “And if this is our only chance, then we have to take it.”

Cas stood and took the coffee from Dean’s hands and took a drink. He looked down at the cup in his hands and stayed silent for a long time. “Are you willing to kill one of your own to get the rest of them back?” Cas asked.

“And say best case scenario, it doesn’t kill him. Are you willing to leave him in a hospital, alone and confused for the rest of his life?” Dean asked. “Can you handle that kind of guilt? Because let me tell you, leaving one of your own in a hospital to rot is the best thing we can hope if we try for it.”

Derek shot a look at Stiles but Stiles was looking at the map. “He’s stronger than humans.” He pointed out.

Cas looked over at Isaac who was pleading silently with his eyes. “He is.” Cas conceded. “He’s strong and he’s healthy and he’s young. And you are asking him to give all of that up for a few maybe clues?”

“It’s not like that-” Derek protested.

“That’s exactly what its like.” Sam insisted, remembering leaving Cas in the hospital. “We had to do that to Cas and he was an angel at full strength. Dean and Cas might want to give you a little hope, but I’m telling you right now, it will kill him.” Sam shook his head. “That’s not why we are here. If you are going to try this, Derek, you are going to have to go through me first. I’m not letting you kill someone out of desperation.”

Stiles hung his head. He rubbed his mouth and said softly, “Derek, maybe you should go try to rest for a little while.”

That- that dismissal stung more than any of the words from the Winchesters. Derek turned to Stiles. Stiles looked at him patiently. “I’ll be up there in just a minute. Please, Derek?” Stiles asked.

With a low growl deep in his chest, Derek swept out of the room and upstairs. They heard his footsteps and the door slam. Stiles winced.

Isaac collapsed into a chair and breathed a sigh of relief. “I was ready to run.” He admitted.

Dean clapped him on the shoulder.

“I don’t think he would have gone through with it.” Stiles said.

No one replied. No one was quite sure what to believe. Derek’s words or Stiles’ faith in Derek.

“What’s our next play?” Stiles finally asked, looking at the map with a critical eye. It was worthless. The forest was so huge that it would take teams of professionals to even narrow down where everyone else might have gone.

“I think-” Sam sighed and stopped himself.

“Spit it out, Sammy.” Dean said. He poured himself another cup of coffee, his long since relinquished to Cas.

“I think we should send Stiles and Isaac away.” Sam finally muttered. “Put him, Melissa, and Isaac in a car and send them away. Without the sacrifice, there will be no rise to power for whoever this is. And the rest of us, the sheriff, us, Derek, we can find out who this is and then they can come back.”

Dean opened his mouth to say something but before he could, something slammed into the back door. They all jumped, spilling coffee and they backed away from the door. Dean and Sam were the first to the door and peered through the small window. Dean opened it.

Outside were three werewolves, panting to get inside. Dean grinned at them and waved.

“How are y’all this fine evening?” He said genially.

They screamed back at him and threw themselves at him again, only to be met with an invisible wall.

“Sigils.” Cas said with a small smile. “They don’t just work on angels.”

“Sammy.” Dean said and Sam handed him a machete. Dean stepped through the door with Sam at his heels.

The fight was messy and bloody and in the end, there was a dead body and two severely injured werewolves. Sam and Dean walked back in, sweaty and a mess. Dean wiped his machete on his pants and nodded.

“Thoughts?”

“You just killed that man.” Isaac said immediately.

“On leaving town, dumbass.” Dean said patiently.

“Oh. I like it better than killing me.” Isaac replied.

Dean nodded and shrugged. “Fair enough. Stiles?”

“It seems… reasonable enough.”

Dean nodded and looked up at the ceiling. “Derek?”

There was silence but Cas grinned. “He said it should work.”

“All right, let’s get some things packed and ready to go. Stiles, your Jeep, will it make it?”

“Yeah, it should.”

Derek re-entered the room. “No, he’s taking my car.”

“ _Your_ car?” Isaac said. “Wow, ok.”

Dean nodded. “All right. Let’s get you guys ready.”

~~~

An hour later, Derek was carrying Melissa to the car and put her in the backseat. Isaac got into the front seat and waited for Stiles to get behind the wheel. He stood on the passenger side of the car, next to Derek, watching the preparations. Sam and Dean were putting bags in the back of the car and Cas was leaning in the window to talk to Isaac.

“Here.” Cas said and handed Isaac a gun. Isaac handled it carefully and put it in the glove box. “And here.” Cas said turning and handing Stiles an angel blade. “Be careful with that. It’s a manifestation of my grace, so it should-”

“A what of your _what_?” Stiles said almost dropping it.

“What makes me an angel is in that blade.” Cas said slowly. “So be careful with it. It can kill just about anything that crosses your path.”

“Oh. Ok. Wait, won’t you _need_ this?” Stiles said, ready to hand it back.

“I can make another.” Cas said. He gave Isaac’s shoulder a squeeze before stepping back.

Stiles turned to Derek. “Back there, Derek, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sent you away.”

“No, you were right. I need a minute.” Derek said. He shook his head and wrapped his arms around Stiles neck and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Stiles smelled like fresh cut grass and the beach and sugar. “I need you to be careful.” Derek said softly.

“I’ll return your car in perfect condition.” Stiles said, his words muffled against Derek’s neck.

“No, you moron.” Derek said pulling back and framing Stiles’ face in his hands. “You. You come back to me in perfect condition. I can buy a dozen cars. I can’t buy another you.”

Stiles was silent but nodded. “You have to come back to me too, mint condition. I don’t accept my werewolves in any other way.”

Derek snorted but agreed. “Ok.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He pulled out two credit cards, hesitated and pulled out two more. “They don’t have a limit on them. But be careful. Draw out cash where you can, and then get out of there. Register in hotels under different names if you can.”

“Ok.” Stiles said in a small voice. He looked down at the cards in Derek’s hand and took them from him. “This is real, isn’t it?”

“Stiles.” Derek said softly. “I need you alive. I need you to run. So I need you to go.”

Stiles nodded. “I didn’t get to say goodbye to my dad.” Something broke in his voice. “You have to take care of him Derek. You have to. Ok? Make sure he rests and he eats. Don’t let the other pack get to him.”

“I won’t.” Derek said.

“No, you have to promise me.” Stiles said. “Promise.”

“I swear to you Stiles, your dad will be fine.” Derek said immediately. He would have sworn to anything, if just to make sure he was safe. Stiles nodded. He might have heard the lie in Derek’s voice. “Get in the car.” Derek urged him gently. Stiles nodded. He made his way around to the driver’s side, where Dean was leaning.

He held something up for Stiles. “Thigh holster. One for your gun, one for the blade.” Dean explained.

“Oh. Ok.” Stiles said. He strapped them on and slipped his gun and the blade in.

Sam was there too and pressed something in his hand. “Goofer dust.” He said and then handed him another pouch. “Mountain ash. The goofer dust should protect you from most things and the mountain ash you already know about.” He then handed him a binder. “Crash course in sigils. Wherever you go, I would carve or paint them into door frames. There are extra guns, crosses, silver in your trunk.” Sam tapped the necklace Stiles was wearing. “Don’t take it off. You should probably get it tattooed on. Or the triskelion. They’ll protect you from demons.”

Dean and Sam stepped back as one, Cas joining Dean’s other side.

“We’ll follow you to the edge of town, make sure you get out ok.” Dean said. “After that, you are on your own. Don’t follow any certain routes. Just get out. Sleep when you have to.”

Stiles held Dean’s eye for a moment.

“ _You don’t tell anyone where you are going ok?” Dean whispered and pressed a box into his hand. “You don’t tell anyone I gave you this.” He said. They were alone in the Impala. Apparently it was warded against everything too, including werewolves eavesdropping. Then Dean took Stiles’ phone out of his hand programmed something into it, saved it and handed it back. “You go there. You don’t look back, you don’t wait for anyone. Once there, use the key to let yourselves in. It’s a bunker. It’s hidden, magically. Sam, Cas and I are the only ones who know how to get there and what to look for. It has everything you’ll need to survive.”_

“ _What do I do when I get there?” Stiles asked, slipping the boxed key into his pocket._

“ _Wait for us.” Dean said and paused. “And stay out of mine and Cas’ room.”_

“Got it.” Stiles said.

Derek came around the front of the car and kissed him hard. Stiles could feel him shaking, could feel how hard it was for him to let Stiles go. “Stupid, fragile, human.” Derek whispered against his mouth. “I love you.”

“Stupid, stubborn, werewolf.” Stiles muttered back. “I love you.”

Derek was the one to pull back and turned to the Impala. Everyone was already in and Stiles slid behind the wheel.

Isaac eyed him. “You all right?”

“Nah.” Stiles said and started up the car. Behind him, he heard Dean start his own car. Stiles headed northeast, to the edge of town.

~~~

To say that the silence in the Impala was uncomfortable would be like saying that the hurricane season was wet. Dean piloted the car automatically and cursed Castiel in his head for insisting that Derek sit up front. Derek couldn’t decide to be grateful or angry. In the front seat he had a better view of his car.

Also, from the front seat, he could see Stiles driving away from him.

“Will this work?” Derek asked.

“Sure. We just have to kill the bad guy.” Dean said.

“We don’t even know who that is.” Derek pointed out.

“Someone you managed to piss off, I imagine.” Sam said from the backseat.

Derek couldn’t even argue that point.

They drove in silence for another fifteen minutes.

Dean was following at a safe distance, too aware of his surroundings. Derek had no other choice then to lean back and remember the last time he was in this car.

Then there was an explosion of noise from the backseat.

“Dean, stop!” Sam yelled.

“Dean!” Cas said, a warning.

“I see it.” Dean muttered and stomped on the gas, gaining ground quickly on Stiles.

Derek didn’t see it, not as soon as the others had. He hadn’t been looking, wasn’t aware of what was going on. But when they got closer to the edge of town, he saw it. A sparking, vague motion just out of his field of vision, invisible.

Dean swung in front of Stiles and slowed down, making Stiles slow down as well. Dean swung wide, so that he was facing the Camaro. He rolled down his window and pointed back the way they came. “Go back!” He shouted.

“Dean.” Sam muttered, turning and looking behind them. On either side of the road there was the forest.

“Got it.” Dean said. Sam handed him a shotgun. “Derek, you gotta drive.” He said as he got out of the car and Cas followed him.

“Where are you going?” Derek demanded, scooting over behind the driver’s seat.

“To save your goddamn boyfriend.” Dean muttered and looked behind him. “With my boyfriend. What the hell is going on in my life?” He pumped the shotgun and aimed it at the first werewolf to tear out of the woods, taking her off her feet and throwing her backwards. “Find the missing kids, get a burger, go home. That was my plan.” He shot at another werewolf that was running towards him.

“A burger would be satisfactory right now.” Cas agreed. Two wolves came out of the woods next and Cas took them down neatly.

“But now we got a missing pack, with a true alpha, a pissed of ex boyfriend, a way too understanding current boyfriend-”

“I am exceptional.” Cas agreed.

“And demons and werewolves.” Dean finished. They held their line but didn’t move.

“I don’t hear anything.” Cas said softly.

“Me either.” Dean agreed. He lowered his gun and walked backwards to the Impala, keeping his eyes on the woods. He handed the gun back to Sam who looked at him.

“All right, Dean?”

“We’re good.” Dean said.

“What the hell is going on?” Stiles demanded from other car.

Dean nodded at the wall that Stiles probably couldn’t see. He walked over to it and laid a hand down on it. Derek watched from behind the wheel of the Impala, Sam from the front seat. Cas had a backseat door open, ready to climb in. Isaac and Stiles watched Dean silently.

Where Dean laid his hand on the wall, sparks shot up, but it didn’t seem to hurt him. He pushed against it, as hard as he could, be there was getting through it. Going about sixty miles an hour, as Stiles had been doing, and straight at the wall that he couldn’t see, would have probably killed everyone in the Camaro.

Dean turned back to everyone in the cars. “I don’t think anyone is leaving town-”

Derek and Isaac were the first ones out of their cars. Cas hadn’t been watching because he already knew what it was that Dean was touching. Isaac leapt over the Impala and made it to Dean in seconds, with Derek right behind him.

But it was too late. The werewolf that they hadn’t seen, the one they had their backs to, had slammed Dean into the ground and was snapping at Dean’s face and throat. He wasn’t trying to turn him, he was trying to kill him. Dean was holding him back as best he could but the thing was so much bigger than Dean, almost as big as the twins had been together, Derek recalled.

As one, Derek and Isaac tackled the other one down and all three fell into the partially invisible wall. Their screams, John would say later, could be heard all the way into town. It didn’t just spark, it held a connection to something greater and shocked all three of them. Dean got to his feet, blood running down his arms and face in thick rivulets and pulled Derek and Isaac away from the wall. As they tumbled away from it, the third man tried to crawl away but Dean grabbed him by the neck and forced him back against it and slammed his hand over the man’s mouth. Dean didn’t say anything or threaten which was probably the worst part about it. Instead, he just watched the man being electrocuted, his head cocked to the side like a curious puppy.

“Dean.” Cas said behind him. Dean stepped back, the man dropped and Dean walked away.

“Say goodbye.” The man managed to get out. “All of it. Every single thing you’ve ever known, it’s gone. And before he lets you die, you’ll be begging-”

Cas turned on his heel and Stiles saw the silver glint of an angel blade in his hand before Cas hauled him to his feet and calmly sliced his throat open. He left the body in the middle of the road and turned to Stiles, the front of his clothes drenched in blood.

“Go home.” He said softly.

Stiles put the car in gear and headed back home.

~~~

When Derek arrived back at the Stilinski household, Isaac was making his way up the steps with Melissa in his arms. Derek could hear how hard his heart was beating and made his way up to help him. Melissa sleeping through the entire thing worried Derek but Cas explained that he had used a little extra of his own grace to help her through the night. He did not expect her to wake up at all until mid-morning.

Isaac looked like Derek felt; pale, drawn and crushed under the electricity that had run through them less than a half hour before.

“Go get some rest.” Derek instructed gently as he laid Melissa in her bed, tucking the blankets around her. “We’ve got it from here.”

Isaac did not need to be told twice. He left the room and shuffled upstairs into his own room. Derek made his way into the kitchen.

“Dude, you need to clean up.” He heard Stiles saying to Dean.

Derek walked back into the kitchen, the place they all seemed to gather, and saw that Dean was leaning against the counter, sipping a cup of coffee. The blood had dried on his face and neck and arms, giving him a ghastly appearance. Derek said nothing but had to agree with Stiles.

Cas was slumped in his seat, blood dried on him as well. His angel blade was laying carelessly on the table in front of him.

“Can’t you put that away?” Dean asked Cas.

“No.” Cas said simply.

Dean took another drink of his coffee and put the cup in the sink. “What time is it?” He asked.

Stiles looked down at his watch. “Six forty five.”

Dean remained silent. “Bathroom?”

“Upstairs, second door on your left, towels are in the closet right across from it.” Stiles said. He was slumped over in his seat much the way Cas was. Sam had a book out and was flipping through it. Cas watched him with blurry eyes. The kitchen was silent except for the sound of pages turning and Sam writing notes. Finally he sat back and looked at Cas.

“It’s a demon, isn’t it?” Cas said.

“Naturally.”

“But not any kind of average demon that has spent thousands of years torturing souls down in the pit. Isn’t it?”

“Of course not.”

“It’s going to be, what does Dean say?, super fucked up. Isn’t it?” Cas asked wearily, swiping at his face.

“For a demon to take over a werewolf, both have to be powerful. Powerful enough to cast spells, powerful enough to change the weather, powerful enough to command a true alpha.” Sam said.

Derek’s stomach sank.

“It isn’t enough that the demon is powerful, the wolf has to be powerful. An alpha of the highest order.” Sam went on.

“Ok.” Cas said. He nodded. “Yeah.”

They were silent until Dean came back down, dressed in a clean pair of jeans and a tshirt. Stiles watched as he made his way around the kitchen. “You guys need some rest. Sammy, you take the bedroom, Cas and I will take the first watch. Derek, Stiles, if you guys want to catch a couple of hours, do that and then we need to inventory what kind of weapons we have.”

Everyone nodded. “Don’t you want to know?” Sam asked.

“I’m sure it’s something super fucked up like a demon werewolf.” Dean said. He got another cup of coffee and began to make another pot. They would need it later on.

“An alpha demon werewolf.” Sam corrected, somewhat petulantly.

“So close.” Dean muttered. He nodded upstairs. “Go sleep. We’ve got this handled for a little while.”

Derek pulled Stiles to his feet and they headed upstairs and closed the door behind them. Derek stripped his shirt and then Stiles’, quickly and efficiently. He toed his shoes off and gestured for Stiles to do the same. They climbed on the bed, Derek wrapping himself around Stiles like he always did. He was warm and Stiles could feel his heartbeat against his back, steady and reassuring.

“Derek?” He whispered after a couple of minutes.

Derek put his lips to Stiles’ shoulder and whispered back, “Yeah?”

“Dean. He wasn’t hurt.” When Dean had come down from his shower, there were no cuts or bruises on him. The way that other werewolf had sliced at him, he should have had ribbons of flesh laying against his body.

“I know.” Derek whispered back.

“He’s not human.” Stiles said softly.

“I know.”

~~~

An hour later when Stiles was asleep, Derek stood, covered him with a blanket from the foot of the bed and slipped out of the bedroom. The house was silent, the doors to all the other bedrooms closed and dark.

Cas was on the couch, in clean jeans and a tshirt, a blanket pulled over him. He was asleep.

At the window, Dean stood looking out. His hands were behind his back and his feet were shoulder width apart. _Parade rest_ , something in Derek’s mind whispered.

Dean turned his head in Derek’s direction but didn’t turn around. He was almost completely still and the air around them was heavy and cold.

“He’s asleep.” Derek said.

“Yeah.” Dean agreed.

“I didn’t know angels needed to sleep.”

“They don’t.” Dean said.

That stopped Derek in his effort to make small talk. He looked down at Cas and back up to Dean. “What? I thought you said he’s angel. Warrior of god and all that.”

“He is. Angels don’t sleep though.” Dean said softly.

Derek looked down at Castiel’s still form, his chest rising and falling evenly.

“I don’t get it.”

“He’s dying.” Dean slowly, the words falling softly.     


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for all the comments and kudos! I love hearing from all of you and I hope you guys enjoy this one!

** [ ** Playlist ** ](https://play.spotify.com/user/ymfnm/playlist/7CqUQLTmkwj9aS4Q0uHY0a) **

_**September, 1997** _

Instead of feeling exhausted after his weekend run, Derek was excited. It still felt like he was fearing up for a run, his blood pounding in his veins. Talia couldn’t help but smirk. Uncle Peter rolled his eyes. Coral was fast asleep in the seat next to him. At home, Derek jumped in the shower and scrubbed the flaking blood from the deer he had taken down.

When he got out of the bathroom, Cora was lounging in the hall, a towel in her hand, and shoved him out of the way. He plucked a leaf out of her hair as she passed by him. “Don’t leave with out me.” She said.

“Aw, did you miss your Sammy?” Derek asked, laughing at her.

Cora sniffed at him. “A lot less than you missed _your_ Dean.” She said arrogantly, cocking an eyebrow and slamming the door in his face.

“Brat.” He muttered, walking away. He heard her laughing behind the door. Derek made his way to his room. He pulled a green shirt from his closet and pulled on a clean pair of jeans. He hummed a song underneath his breath while he tied his shoes. He ran a comb through his hair and frowned at his reflection.

“There’s nothing wrong with your face.” Talia said, the only person able to surprise him.

“Are you sure.” He asked, scrubbing as his hair.

“Yes and I’m sure Dean would agree.” Talia said patiently. Derek could hear Cora laughing from the bathroom and blushed. Talia turned to the bathroom and said, “Shush it girl. I know Derek isn’t the only member of the Winchester fan club.” The laughing ceased. Talia turned back to Derek. “What time will you be back?” She asked.

Derek glanced down at his watch. It was nearing one in the afternoon now. “Before dinner.”

Talia raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. Right. Call me when you know you will be late.” She said. She yawned and turned away from Derek’s room and ran into Cora. Cora wordlessly handed her a brush and turned around. Talia began to brush her hair and quickly braided it back, pulling some loose strands forward and curling them around her fingers. Cora turned and Talia smiled down at her. “You look just like your sister.” She said.

Cora blushed and leaned into her mom. Talia kissed the top her head, her last child that let her get away with that kind of affection and shooed the two of them off.

~~~

When Sam woke that morning, he found that Dean had already done laundry, swept the living room and kitchen, made him breakfast and was idly staring at his history book.

“What time is it?” Sam asked and stumbled into the kitchen.

Dean glanced at the clock. “Ten. Ish.” He said.

Sam ate the pancakes and eggs slowly, waking up as he did. “What time are Derek and Cora coming over?”

Dean shut his book, giving up the pretense of studying. He grabbed the remote instead and flopped back. “I don’t know.” He said. “Derek said they were driving back today so probably not till this afternoon.”

Sam eyed his brother. He was already dressed in his favorite jeans and a faded blue tshirt that had some band on it. It fit a little tight around his shoulders and Sam rolled his eyes.

Dean turned the tv on and flipped through some channels before finally settling back on the first Terminator. Sam finished his breakfast and got in the shower and went to the closet that he and Dean shared, wondering if he had anything clean left. He was surprised to find that not only did he have clean clothes, but that his and Dean’s stuff were hung and in opposite sides of the closet, a clear delination between their clothes. He turned to the tiny dresser and found his jeans folded and tucked away, his socks paired, his boxers in the same drawer. He opened another one and found that Dean’s drawer was much the same way. Sam raised his eyebrows at the organization but decided not to question it.

He went back into the living room where Dean was still watching his movie and sat down next to his brother.

“Your hair is still wet.” Dean muttered.

“I know.”

“Dad will put me in the hospital next to you if you get pneumonia.” Dean replied. Sam stood and went back to the bathroom, drying his hair more thoroughly with a towel. Dean said things like that in passing, casually, as if there were nothing to them but there was a kernel of truth to them as well. Sam was done trying to risk it.

He fell into the futon beside Dean and they sat, watching the T800 blow Los Angeles up.

“That’s one thing we haven’t seen.” Sam remarked.

“We’ve been to L.A.” Dean said.

“A robot, dumbass.” Sam replied.

“Well, because robots aren’t usually haunted, moron.” Dean replied. “Or cursed.” Then he frowned. “Or possessed.”

“Could you imagine if they were though?” Sam said.

Dean was silent for a moment, thinking of the possibilities. “I gotta say, that would be pretty cool.” He said finally, smirking. The movie finished and the second one started and Sam couldn’t help but notice that Dean was getting fidgety. He was shifting back and forth, eyes flickering to the clock. At half past twelve, Sam finally sighed. “Dude, go for a run. Do something. They’ll be here soon.”

Dean glared at his little brother.

“Hey, you were the one who said they wouldn’t be here till this afternoon.” Sam shrugged. “And you know how being around family wears you out.”

Dean hated it when Sam was right.

“I’m hungry.” Dean said finally. He stood up and pointed at Sam. “Food?” He asked.

“I’m fine.” Sam said and grabbed a book from the small table beside him. He listened while his brother began to pull things from the fridge. His mind drifted between his brother and the Hales, wondering how hard Dean was going to take it when John finally came back. The longest John had been gone was six months and it had taken Dean a full two weeks to finally start talking to his father in more than two or three word sentences. And even then, when they had been staying in Fayetteville, Dean had become so close to anyone as he had with Derek. Dean had friends, sure, but they weren’t-

They weren’t Derek.

Sam stopped trying to read the book in his hand and looked up at his brother rummaging around in the kitchen, whistling under his breath. He was angry at their father for this life, but sometimes he hated John for the things he did to Dean. And it wasn’t the angry words or the blows exchanged but it was the fact that Dean had been made to sacrifice his childhood for this vendetta. That’s when he hated John. That’s when he could feel the anger boiling deep in his throat and his chest. And those were always the times that the fights were the worst, when Dean would have to step in between them. Sam laid his book down and said, “Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we just stayed somewhere?” He asked Dean.

Dean stuck his head out of the kitchen and into Sam’s field of vision. “Like, if we just stopped hunting things?”

“Yeah.”

Dean snorted. “You know dad would never give up hunting.”

Sam nodded. “I know. But what if you and me-”

Dean watched him, his eyebrows knitting together. “What if you and me just stayed in one place? What if you and me ran away?”

Sam remained silent.

Dean took a bite of the sandwich in his hand and watched his brother silently. Not like John would when he was angry and searching for just the right words to hurt someone, but like he was seriously considering the idea. “I’m not eighteen yet.” Dean finally pointed out.

“January. That’s four months away.” Sam pointed out.

“Dad gives us money-”

“Never enough. We could get jobs.”

“You aren’t old enough to work, legally.” Dean said.

“Legally.” Sam pointed out.

Dean sighed and took another bite out of his sandwich. He sat down next to Sam and they watched the movie for a second while Dean finished his sandwich. “It’s not that I don’t want to, Sam.” Dean said quietly. “I do. I want to stay here more than I want to be anywhere else since Kansas. And maybe its the Hales, maybe its the place, maybe its the people here, man, I don’t know. But I do. I want to stay. But the expense just to live is ridiculous. I would have to get a job. Maybe two, just to afford this place and to feed us. And that’s not including all the other stuff. I would have to drop out.” Dean said. “And I would do it, ya know. If it meant that you and I would be able to stay, but you know people would report that we were alone, they would take you from me even if I was eighteen. Then dad would mixed up into it and-” Dean sighed. “I couldn’t cheat you like that, Sammy.”

Sam frowned and nodded. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t want to point out that he wouldn’t actually _let_ Dean do something like that, because Sam wasn’t the only one who would end up cheated in that scenario.

“I know, Dean.” Sam said softly.

They both turned to the window at the same time as they heard tires crunching on the gravel out there. Sam turned and gave Dean a brilliant grin. He stood and went to the door and opened it. He bounded out as Derek pulled to a stop in front of the house and opened the door for Cora who greeted him equally enthusiastically with a hug that took both of them off their feet. Cora laughed and pulled Sam to his feet and they ran into the house with Sam calling behind him, “Hey, Derek!”

Derek raised a hand at their retreating backs. “Hey, Sam.” He said.

Dean had followed at a much more sedate pace, not wanting to appear too eager, even if his heart was pounding against his ribcage like a scared rabbit wanting loose. He listened to Sam laugh for a minute and envied him that easy relationship. Sam knew where Cora stood and Cora understood Sam. They fit together like a counterbalance, weighing each other out. Derek lingered on the opposite side of his car, watching Dean for a full minute. Dean returned the stare evenly, a smirk pulling at his lips.

Derek finally smiled first. “Hey, there.”

“Hey, yourself. You coming in or admiring the view?” Dean asked.

“I like the view.” Derek admitted.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Well this view isn’t going to wait around all day for you to get your ass inside.”

Derek laughed and headed around the car. Dean’s sandwich was still in his hand and he raised it in Derek’s direction. “Hungry?” He asked.

“No, mom made us a huge breakfast before we left this morning.” Derek replied, remembering the deer in the mountains he had taken down.

“Awesome. So what do you want to do?” Dean asked, as Derek stepped inside. Derek took a deep breath once he was inside, smelling the clean laundry tucked away, Sam’s room but most of all Dean. Derek collapsed on the futon and he could smell Dean all over it. Derek knew that this must be where he slept every night.

“It doesn’t matter, really. I just needed to get away from the family.” Derek said.

“Your family is in the other room.” Dean said and took a bite of the sandwich in his hand.

“Yeah, but you’re in this room and,” Derek shrugged. “That’s good enough for me.”

Dean stopped chewing and forgot how to form words and then blinked. He turned to the tv where things were blowing up and blinked again and when he turned back to Derek, Derek was staring at the tv too, a smirk on his face.

“You do shit like that on purpose.” Dean muttered, finishing his sandwich a moment later and taking a long drink from his bottle of water.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Derek said easily, leaning back into the pillows that were on his end of the futon.

“I just-” Dean started and frowned. “This seems so easy for you.”

“What’s easy for me?” Derek asked, turning to Dean now, meeting his eyes.

Dean was trying to dredge up the correct words to say when Cora and Sam came around the corner. “Hey, can we go for a ride?” Sam asked.

Derek looked slightly disappointed but started to stand.

“No, on our bikes.” Sam said. “Cora can use mine and I’ll use Dean’s.” He paused and looked up at Dean, a gleam in his eyes. Dean had to wonder how much of the previous conversation he had heard. “If that’s ok with you guys, that is.”

Dean and Derek looked at each other and Derek shrugged. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Where are you going?” Dean asked.

“Cora was telling me about this bookstore a couple blocks away.” Sam said.

“Ok.” Dean said and pulled some money from his wallet. “Just be back before it gets too dark, ok?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Ok, dad.” He mocked and ducked a fake punch from Dean. They left through the front door and Dean and Derek stepped out on the tiny stoop to watch them take off, Cora waving back at Derek as they left. Derek raised a hand silently.

“They’re close.” Derek remarked as they disappeared around the library.

“Yeah.” Dean said. Then stopped. “Is that a problem?”

“No. Just Cora hasn’t been close with that many people since-” Derek stopped himself when he realized he hadn’t included his older sister’s death in their father’s story. “Since our dad.”

Dean nodded and turned around. “Well, can you blame her? A parent’s death can take a lot of you. I’m sure you get it.” Dean snorted and said, “No offense, but you don’t seem like the next likely candidate for Prom King.”

Derek smiled. “I’ve always been the same enjoyable person you see in front of you now.”

Dean fell into the futon and looked up at Derek who was lingering by the window. “I wish-” He stopped himself.

“What?” Dean asked.

“I don’t want to make you feel bad, but I wish that you guys didn’t have to go.” Derek muttered. He reached back and rubbed the back of his head. “I get that this isn’t where you guys are staying but I wish you could, you know?”

Dean hummed and glanced at the tv. Conan was conquering something. “Sam was talking about that earlier. He wants to stay too.”

“But you don’t want to?” Derek asked, glancing at him finally.

Dean snorted. “I would love to stay. Even if Sam and I had to live in this tiny place forever. But that’s just not- I mean-” Dean sighed. “That’s now how our lives work. Ever since I started school, that’s just not how it’s been. And, think about it Derek, there’s no way Sam and I could manage it. I’d have to get a couple of jobs. I’d have to drop out-”

“Come stay with us.” Derek said suddenly.

Dean felt like the rug had been ripped out of from underneath him. “What?”

Derek glanced out the window. “You turn eighteen soon. You could- I mean you could stay with us. Just till you graduate and then-”

“Derek.” Dean said softly. He stood and went over to him. “I couldn’t do that to you. Or your family.”

Derek searched his face. He knew if he told his mom what Dean and Sam were hiding, he knew if he could get the truth from Dean, that they would be in the guest rooms that night. That Talia would immediately go to Sheriff Stilinski and insist that he do something. And he knew that the sheriff would. Dean stood and went to the window with Derek. He glanced out at gravel drive and the side of the library building and the small patch of dying grass. He glanced up at the sky and note that it would rain later on that afternoon.

“I can’t do that to my dad.” Dean added, gently, just a second later.

“Your dad isn’t even here.” Derek grumbled.

“I know.” Dean said but didn’t try to offer any kind of explanation.

“Dean-”

“I don’t want to leave, Derek. I don’t.” Dean shook his head. “I wish Sam had something like Cora does. But he doesn’t. We don’t. And when my dad comes back and says its time to go, we’ll go. But-” Derek watched Dean’s face go silent and still for a long second and Dean closed his eyes. “But that doesn’t mean I want to go.”

Derek looked down at Dean’s hands, balled up into fists. Following his instincts, Derek reached out one finger to Dean’s wrist and lightly traced his thumb until his hands relaxed and his shoulders lost all their tension and he let out a breath and opened his eyes.

“Do you see what I mean?” Dean said, lacing his fingers through Derek’s. “This all seems so easy for you.”

Derek laughed, he felt wild and nervous. “If you could feel my heart, you would know that’s not true.”

Dean put a hand to Derek’s chest, over his heart. He felt it, Derek’s heart pounding wildly. He took Derek’s hand in his own and put it to his neck, right above the pulse there. Derek didn’t need to feel it, he could hear Dean’s heart from a mile away. Derek knew so much about Dean in the short time they had spent together. He knew what he looked like when he was figuring out difficult math problems and he knew how Dean looked, lit up by the sun. He knew how Dean looked, spoiling for a fight. He knew what Dean sounded like when he was talking to Cora about English class and metaphors.

But he could feel the rush of his blood now, the pounding underneath his fingers and he could smell the pure, unadulterated _want_ and it was saturating Derek, shutting everything out until all he could smell was that singular scent of Dean, rain and dark clouds and it was just a simple adjustment of his wrist, and Derek was pulling Dean down the scant two inches that separated their height and pressing his lips there to that pulse point, felt Dean’s heart _jump_ at the contact. Derek tensed, readying himself in case he had read all the signs wrong-

But Dean pulled back only far enough to angle Derek’s face up so that Dean could lean down into him, kiss him full on the mouth and there it was, there was that single moment of _melting_ that Derek could swear would have him holding on to Dean Winchester for the rest of his life, so that he could have that balance, that steadiness, that was Dean.

Dean pressed his lips eagerly into Derek’s and marveled at how warm he was. He was almost feverish, like he had been running and running and Dean had just caught him. Dean pulled back and gulped into a gasp of air. He opened his eyes to find Derek staring at him, eyes wide.

“Holy shit.” Derek whispered.

Dean nodded. “Yeah.”

“Was that- Did I-” Derek looked lost and Dean took that moment to kiss him once more. He traced Derek’s jaw with his fingers, light and sweet and he felt Derek lean into that touch, into Dean. Derek raised a hand to Dean’s chest again and left it there for a second before gently nudging him away.

“Sorry.” Dean said. “I just. I really like-” Dean dropped his hands and stepped back. He waved his hands at Derek. “Everything, I guess.”

“I just need to slow down. Just for a minute. This is-” Derek cleared his throat. “This is a first for me.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Jesus. Derek. I didn’t know.”

Derek shook his head. “No, it was a good first. Yeah. I mean, it was a _great_ first.”

Dean smiled. He stepped close to Derek once more and wrapped his arm around Derek’s waist and pulled him close. He dipped his head so that he was barely a whisper away and swept his lips across Derek’s, painting a memory there. Dean watched Derek’s eyes go wide and he whispered, “Better watch it, Hale. You’re gonna give a guy a big head.” He pressed in gently, pulling Derek as close as he could, threading his fingers through Derek’s hair and cradling his head.

Derek understood the term _weak in the knees_ suddenly.

Dean pulled back and stepped away. Derek kept his eyes closed for a second longer and opened them to Dean watching him, curiosity skipping across his face.

“We’re gonna do that again. Soon.” Dean promised. “But if we don’t slow down now, it’s going to end very painfully for the both of us.”

“What if I don’t want to stop?” Derek asked, testing his ground.

“We’re stopping, sweetheart.” Dean said gently.

Derek nodded.

“What do you want to do now?” Dean asked.

Derek raised an eyebrow.

“Shut up.” Dean said and sat down on the futon. He patted the space next to him. “Come sit and watch crappy tv with me.”

“Ok.” Derek said softly and sat next to Dean awkwardly. He didn’t know where to put his hands or how to lean or if he should take the spot on the other end of the futon-

Dean grabbed his bicep and yanked him close so that they were touching, from knee to shoulder. Dean grinned broadly at Derek and leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Relax. It’s just me.”

~~~

Sam turned the page in a vampire book, smirking at all the ways they had it wrong. He put it back in place and picked up another on werewolves. According to his research, this one seemed more correct but also way out of line. It seemed to imply that they were people ruled by the monster, rather than the monster ruled by the person. It seemed interesting, though, so he tucked it under his arm. Cora came around the corner just then, a book in hand. It had a dark cover but Sam couldn’t make out the title.

“Find anything?” She asked.

“A book on werewolves.” Sam said, running his hands across some of the titles.

Cora raised an eyebrow. “Really, Sam? Werewolves? Could you _be_ a little more lame?”

“I like classic monsters.” Sam said with a shrug. “And I like werewolves better than all the other monsters because they have a choice.”

“What do you mean, a choice?” Cora asked as they made their way up to the check out stand.

“I mean-” Sam handed his book and then money over to the bored teenager behind the desk. “They are mostly human. Twenty eight days out of the month, they are just an average person. The other three days they might be wolves, but a lot of them, according to the myth anyway, are able to keep their wits about them. I like that. Giving in for three days and then being average the rest of the time.”

Cora looked at Sam. “That’s an interesting take.” She handed the cashier her money. “Most people would just think they are murderous monsters.”

Sam shook his head. “No way. That’s why I like werewolves. They live in packs, like a family. But it doesn’t necessarily have to blood family. They take you in and you are theirs and they are yours. Their den, their food, everything. That isn’t monstrous, that’s-” Sam stopped himself and looked up at the sky. A new moon was rising.

“That’s what?” Cora asked as they left the store and headed down the street to the ice cream place Cora was eying before they went into the bookstore.

“That’s family.” Sam said softly. He was still staring at the moon but then came back to himself with a shake of his head. “I mean that’s what family does, right?”

Cora was looking at him strangely before nodding. “That’s exactly what family does.” She said slowly.

Cora met Sam’s eyes while they waited for their turn. “How was your time with your family?” Sam asked softly.

“Fine.” Cora said, stepping away from Sam.

“Why did you have to leave Friday afternoon? Why didn’t your mom just wait until after school? Or Saturday?”

“Why does it matter?” Cora asked.

Sam turned back to the counter. “Rocky road and a strawberry. Two scoops each, both in a cone.” He said to the girl behind the counter. He paid for them at the cashier and then they took a seat. Sam worked on his ice cream slowly. After a moment he looked out the window. “I guess it doesn’t matter.” He said finally.

Cora looked at him, still guarded. “That what doesn’t matter?” She asked.

He stared down at his ice cream. “It doesn’t matter that you had to leave Friday afternoon.” He said.

“How would you know why we had to leave Friday afternoon?” Cora asked, sitting back and looking at Sam in utter disbelief, catching onto his code.

Sam crunched into his cone. “We know about… Friday afternoons.” Sam said slowly. “And the other different kind of afternoons.”

“Are you-” Cora asked, something catching in her throat before she cleared it loudly. “Do you belong to a particular afternoon?” She finally finished.

“Us? No.” Sam said. “Our dad, he’s looking for an afternoon. A particular one. Our mother was killed by one.” He said softly.

Cora blinked. “Not- not one of _our_ afternoons?” She asked.

“No.” Sam said. He looked out at the night sky. “We better go.”

Cora nodded and they both stood. Out on sidewalk, getting their bikes Sam stopped her. “Cora, don’t tell Dean about Friday afternoon, ok? Don’t let Derek either. I need to-” Sam sighed and looked away. “I need to get him warmed up to the idea.”

“But he knows? About everything?” She asked.

“More than I do.” He admitted. “Probably more than I ever will. I just don’t want him freaking out about the idea. I assume Derek is-?”

“He’s going to be alpha one day.” She admitted quietly.

Sam nodded. They continued pushing their bikes to the edge of the library building and Sam looked back at Cora. “I’m glad you told me.”

“I’m glad you figured it out.” Cora admitted and she felt her shoulders relax. They turned the corner and saw Derek and Dean sitting on the porch, Derek pointing up at the sky.

“Will he be ok with it?” Cora asked.

“I don’t know.” Sam admitted.

~~~

“Let’s go for a walk.” Derek said suddenly, seeing Sam and Cora round the corner.

“Why? We’re fine here.” Dean said, reaching for Derek’s fingers. The casual touching had become more and more frequent throughout the afternoon and Derek relished in it. Then he caught sight of Sam and Cora. “Oh. Does Cora not know-?”

“No, Cora knows. I think she outed me to my mom the other day.” Derek said with a furrowed brow. “I just. I want to be alone with you for a little while. Is that ok? And there’s this place in the woods that I know, it’s something you have to see at night.”

“All right, all right.” Dean said, standing. Derek used their tangled hands to pull himself up and when Sam and Cora reached them, neither one bothered to let go. The other two rolled their eyes. “Derek wants to show me something in the woods. We’ll be right back. Ok?”

Sam nodded. “All right.”

Dean and Derek headed around the side of the house and Cora and Sam headed inside. They fell on the futon and Cora yawned. Sam clicked on the tv and they sat on the futon, not talking, just watching tv.

“I’m glad I found you, Sam Winchester.”

“I’m glad you’re here, Cora Hale.”

~~~

They walked through the forest, holding hands, stopping for the occasional slow kiss. It was dark and a little cold, but Derek seemed so sure of where he was going that Dean wasn’t concerned. They tripped and laughed at each other and kissed some more and continued on until they found a small clearing.

“My dad showed me this place. I should have brought you here when the moon was brighter, but-” Derek shrugged. “It’s nice to know that there is something in your own backyard for you to visit occasionally.”

Dean nodded. “Not as impressive as the pond in your backyard but hey, maybe we can hang out here when you come over.”

Derek hummed. “That sounds good.”

They turned to go when suddenly Derek stopped and cocked his head. “Did you hear that?” He asked.

Dean snorted. “This isn’t a horror movie and you aren’t a blonde with big boobs. Shut up.”

“No, Dean. I’m serious-” Derek jerked Dean out of the way as a lacrosse stick whistled through the air where his face had just been. They looked at each other and took off in the same direction as the house. They were so close but a rock twisted underneath Derek’s ankle and Dean stopped. He never saw the rock come from behind him and hit him, knocking him unconscious.

~~~

Cora sat up suddenly, awake all at once. Sam sat up too.

“What?” He asked immediately.

“The guys-” She said. “They’re in trouble.”

Sam stood. “What kind of trouble?” He asked heading for his room. He waited impatiently for her answer. “Cora! What kind of trouble?” He demanded, trying to get her to focus.

She shook her head. “Humans. The guys from school the other day, I think.”

Sam nodded. “Can you show me the way?” He asked and turned back to his room and came back in, slipping something up his sleeve.

“Yeah, but Sam, it’s like eight or nine guys.” She said. She turned her head. “Nine guys.”

“We don’t have any time to waste then.” Sam said and he reached underneath the futon and jerked Dean’s pearl handled gun out and checked the magazine and safety. Loaded and on. He nodded at the back door. “Let’s go get them.”

~~~

Derek had lost count of how many times he had been hit. He had lost count of how many guys there were. He was dazed and could barely see the sky for how swollen his eyes were and he couldn’t see Dean either.

He didn’t think his mother would be left with just one kid, but if these guys kept up what they were doing, Cora was going to be the only Hale left. A particularly vicious blow landed on the side of his head and the next thing he was aware of was a couple of the guys hauling him to his feet. Dean was across the field, head lolling on his shoulders. He was still out. That didn’t stop Jesse from hitting a couple more times.

“Stop!” Derek screamed and he could feel the shift coming on and he knew the two guys holding his arms weren’t going to be enough to stop him if they kept hitting Dean.

“Listen to him.” A small voice said, from Derek’s right side.

He turned his head to it. “No, Sam.” He begged. “Get out of here. Go get help.”

“We are help.” Another voice said softly, next to Sam.

Derek felt the tears welling up in his eyes. Even if Cora had time to shift, which she might not, she was just a little girl and there were nine guys in the clearing and he didn’t-

Derek couldn’t protect her. He was sure that his arm was broken and his ankle felt weird.

“Cora, no. Go get help. Go get mom.” He begged. “Go!” He roared and Cora glimpsed the alpha he would become. But he wasn’t there yet and he was just her older brother.

“Let them go.” Sam said softly. He wasn’t begging or crying. He demanded.

“You little shit.” One said softly. He stepped forward and Derek saw the glint of something shiny.

Sam had a gun.

“It’s not loaded.” One of them said and he stepped forward. Derek saw it, the tiny adjustment Sam made and he pulled the trigger carefully. They all saw the brief flare of fire from the gun and someone yelped. Derek heard two of the guys turn and run. Smart.

The others froze.

“Let Derek go. Let my brother go.” Sam said softly. “I’m only fourteen. You think they’ll put me in jail? After they see what you’ve done here?” Sam mocked them, pretending to cry. “My brother was un-unconscious and there were so many of them and I didn’t mean to kill him, but officer he was coming at me-” Sam stopped and his voice turned cold. “I can win a fucking Oscar. Let my brother go.”

The two holding Dean let go and backed off, hands in the air. Dean swayed uncertainly on his feet and stumbled over to Sam. He took the gun from him and walked over to Jesse, his gait still unsteady. Without another word, he pistol whipped him across the face and _everyone_ heard his nose break, a sick, wet sound.

“I will kill you.” Dean spat.

Jesse stumbled away and took off running. The other guys dropped Derek and followed suit. Dean stumbled over to Sam. “We gotta go. They’re going to call the cops.” He said. He turned to Cora and Derek. “You guys gotta go. Say you left an hour ago. We’ll take care of the rest. Don’t call us. We’ll talk tomorrow at lunch.” Dean said. He pulled Derek close and kissed him gently. “Be careful.”

Derek nodded and they turned and fled, Derek limping but keeping up admirably.

“Let’s go, I gotta get cleaned up.” Dean said. They hurried back to their house.

Under Dean’s direction, Sam stuck a lasagna in the oven while Dean showered, cleaning up the blood and the mess. He got into his pajamas and dried his hair. Sam had their textbooks out and on the little table between the tv and the futon. Pencils and highlighters were scattered and the tv was on once again. Sam was in his pajamas as well, plates out on the counter.

“You good?” Dean asked.

Sam looked a little pale but it wasn’t something who didn’t know him would notice. He nodded.

“You did good. You did real good.” The flashing lights showed up just then. “You know the drill.” He said.

Sam dropped to the futon and grabbed at a pencil. Dean sat next to him and grabbed a highlighter. Sam had his chemistry notes out on the table.

There was a knock at the door.

They looked at each other and Dean stood. He opened the door and there was a guy there, tan with blue eyes.

“Hey there, son.” He said easily. Dean liked him on sight. He didn’t carry his authority like an ass.

“Hello, sir.” Dean replied. “Is there something wrong?” Dean stepped back and let the guy in. He stepped in and looked around the house, smelled the lasagna and looked down at Sam who looked up at him, his eyes wide, as though he had never met a cop before in his life.

“Uh, yeah.” He said. He took a close look at Dean, noted his clean pajamas and his steady eyes. “We got a report that there was a fight here just a little over an hour ago. You know anything about that?”

Dean’s brow knitted and he frowned. “No sir.” He looked down at Sam.

“I-uh,” Sam shook his head and looked down.

“Sorry.” Dean muttered and gestured to the sheriff’s side arm. “Guns make him nervous. Can’t stand the sight of them.”

“Oh!” The sheriff said. “I’ll make this quick then. You two didn’t hear anything suspicious, see anything? I have an office full of angry parents claiming that two kids had a gun out here and were picking a fight.”

Dean looked confused. “Like, in our backyard?” The sheriff nodded. “No. I mean we had a couple friends over earlier. Sam and Cora Hale went into town for a bit for some ice cream-”

“And books. We stopped at the bookstore.” Sam said earnestly, projecting the air of a kid that was eager to help.

Dean gestured at his little brother. “And the bookstore. Derek and I hung out here-” Dean shrugged. “Did some homework, watched some tv.”

The sheriff flipped open his little notebook that all cops seemed to carry. “What time did they leave here?” He asked.

Dean turned to look at the microwave behind him. “An hour? Maybe an hour and a half ago.” He guessed.

The man nodded and said, “I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. Sheriff Stilinski.”

“Dean Winchester.” Dean said. “And Sam.”

Sam smiled weakly.

Sheriff Stilinski sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dean, where’s your father?”

“He’s up in Napa on business.” Dean replied. “He’s an truck driver so he travels a lot.”

“How long have you two been alone?” He asked.

“Dad left last night.” Dean crossed his arms. “Is there a problem?”

“How old are you?” The sheriff asked.

“Seventeen. I’ll be eighteen in three months.” Dean replied evenly, knowing he was skating on thin ice, but trying to keep an even tone.

The sheriff regarded him seriously for a moment. Dean went over to the tv, where he kept his wallet and pulled out his driver’s license. The sheriff checked it over and nodded and handed it back. “I hate to ask this, Dean, but do you mind if I search the place?” He asked.

Dean raised his eyebrows but stepped back. “No, I don’t mind. Go ahead.”

There was another knock at the door and Sam and Dean turned as one to the door. Talia opened it and walked in. “Boys, I thought- Sheriff!” She exclaimed. “What a surprise.”

“Talia.” The sheriff said warmly and greeted her with a hug. “How are the kids?”

“Good, they’re out in the car.” Talia said. She waved to her large SUV for Derek and Cora to come in. “We just got back this morning from a camping trip. Derek took an awful spill.” She shook her head. “Teenage boys are trouble on legs.” She said, looking over at Dean.

“Well, I’ll get this over with quickly.” The sheriff said.

Talia’s eyebrows knitted. “What’s going on?”

“We had some complaints that there was a fight with your kids and the Winchesters against what looks like the entire lacrosse team.” Talia pressed a hand to her throat, looking frightened. “I have sixteen parents at the station demanding that we arrest someone. There are accusations that there was a gun involved. Dean here said that it was fine to look through the house.”

Derek and Cora came into the house and even the sheriff winced at his face. “Jesus, Derek, did you fall down the side of a mountain?” He asked.

“I was walking in a river. The undercurrent was a lot stronger than I thought and I became personally introduced to a rock.” Derek said, gesturing to his face.

The sheriff shook his head. “I’ll just-” He nodded to the rest of the house.

“Oh, yeah!” Dean said. “Go ahead.” He turned to the Hales. “Can I get you guys anything?”

“No, we’re fine.” Talia said easily. “I just wanted to check in with you two, since your father ask that I keep an eye on you.” Talia said, her voice loud enough for the sheriff to hear. Dean’s eyes widened at her lie and he knew that she knew what had actually happened. “Wanted to make sure you two had dinner since we were driving through.”

“Yeah, we got a lasagna. Should be about done.” Dean said, turning to the kitchen. He opened the oven and pulled it out. He set it carefully on the stove and when he came back to the small living room, Cora was sitting next to Sam and Derek was lingering closer to Dean than to anyone else. The sheriff came out of the back bedroom and shrugged.

“I am not sure that the kids out there are telling the truth.” He said honestly. “I don’t see anything here.”

“Uh, sir?” Sam said softly. He was looking up at the sheriff with puppy dog eyes and Dean saw the guy melt in front of him. Dean rolled his eyes since he was standing behind the sheriff. “A couple of the guys from the lacrosse team had words with me in the hallway. Last Wednesday. Dean talked to them and they haven’t bothered me since, but I don’t know, if you know, thats-” Sam cleared his throat and Cora snaked a hand around his arm and laid her hand protectively on his forearm. “They’re just really _mean_.” Sam whispered. “I haven’t been here more than a week and they seem to have it out for me.”

The sheriff nodded. “All right, son. I’ll talk to them. Do you have names?” He asked and turned to Dean.

“Jesse Fredrickson, Adam Charles and Mike Henley.” Dean replied promptly.

Sheriff Stilinski rolled his eyes. “I should have known.” He crouched in front of Sam. “I’ll take care of it. Those boys will leave you alone from now on. And if they don’t,” The sheriff pulled out a card and handed it to Sam. “My number is there. Call me.”

Sam nodded and the sheriff left, wishing everyone else a good night. They waited until they saw his tail lights disappear before letting out a collective sigh of relief.

“That was good.” Cora said to Sam. “I really thought you were about to cry, you big pansy.”

Sam wiped at his eyes. “I could have. Glad I didn’t have to.”

Talia walked over to Dean and looked at his pupils. “Well, at least you don’t have a concussion. Though god knows why you _don’t_ , from how Derek tells it.” She said with a sigh. She sat down at the small kitchen table and glared at the kids. “What the hell, you guys? A _gun_? Really?” She asked.

“It’s not something that we take out, like ever.” Dean said. His head hurt. “But dad was a Marine and he’s all gung ho about us staying protected and we’ve had plenty of practice-”

Talia held up a hand. “I’m not sure I want to know anymore.” She said honestly. She looked up at Sam and Dean. “Do you want to come over? Stay the night?”

“I think we’re fine.” Dean said honestly. He knew what would happen if he accepted the offer. One night would turn into two, which would turn into a week and leaving would be so much harder.

Talia studied him for a long moment. “All right.” She said softly. “But you call me, if you need anything. Do you hear me?” She asked.

Dean nodded and everyone said their goodnights and goodbyes.

On the stoop, Dean stopped Derek. “Are you ok?”

“What this? I’m a fast healer. I’ll be fine.” He said. He kissed Dean’s cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Just- just watch yourself.” He said.

Dean returned the kiss easily, brushing his lips across Derek’s. “Good night.” He whispered.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**[ ** Playlist ** ](https://play.spotify.com/user/ymfnm/playlist/7CqUQLTmkwj9aS4Q0uHY0a) **

_**Present** _

Derek was silent and stared at Dean’s back. “So what? That’s it? You’re just gonna let him-”

Dean sighed but none of that tension left his shoulders. “I’m not going to talk about this. I’m not going to talk about this with you.”

Derek snorted. “Well if that isn’t the Dean I know.” Derek shifted his gaze from Dean’s shoulders to Cas sleeping on the couch. “If nothing else, we need him for this fight.”

“You need him for this fight.” Dean corrected. “There has to come a time when I draw the line and say enough is enough. I have sacrificed enough.”

Derek choked down the sick need to laugh. He made his way around the coffee table and jerked Dean so that he was facing Derek. Derek had no illusions that Dean allowed himself to be moved, rather than the other way around. “You? You think you’ve sacrificed?” He asked, fury bubbling in his throat. All he could think of was the fire and how it ripped everything from him, left him alone, drove a wedge between him and Cora. “What has anyone every asked from the Great Dean? So you had a shitty childhood, so what? You were offered an out, but you cut and run every single time.” Derek hissed, trying to get a rise out of Dean.

Dean looked back at him, gaze impassive, almost bored. “I don’t know you.” Dean said. “But you don’t know me either. That kid from high school? He’s all burned away. Long time ago.” He glanced down at Cas and out the window. “I would take him and leave right now if we could, you know.” Dean said.

Derek snorted. “That’s a big surprise.” He walked over to the closet and pulled his jacket out of the closet. Dean watched him with that same impassive gaze. He didn’t ask where Derek was going and Derek didn’t say.

Derek left the house and realized he had left his keys upstairs on Stiles’ bedside table. He wasn’t going back in there. Instead, he headed for the sidewalk and headed down the street. He walked a long time, still angry. He was angry because there was almost nothing left of his pack, he was angry that he couldn’t protect what little he had left, and he was furious that he had to rely on Dean Winchester of all people to help him. Dean Winchester, who for all intents and purposes, would rather be anywhere else in the world and had made that clear. Derek’s life was falling apart at the seams and Dean couldn’t be bothered to give a rat’s ass.

Derek angrily kicked at a rock. He didn’t know why he felt this betrayed. He didn’t still have feelings for him. Every single fiber of his being was focused on Stiles, on being with him and having everything with him. Dean didn’t detract from that; in fact seeing Dean magnified how much Derek cared for Stiles. Dean’s presence and his complete lack of help and his self righteous attitude was what pissed Derek off. He wanted more than anything in the world for Dean to leave and never come back. He wanted his old life back.

The sad fact of the matter, the one fact that Derek hated more than anything else, was that he needed Dean’s help to get his old life back. And Dean needed his help to get them out of Beacon Hills so that they would never see each other again. He sighed and sat down on a bench outside the library.

The library.

Derek turned and looked back it and groaned. Once he got everyone back, alive and healthy, he would ask Stiles if they could move. The entire pack could come with them for all he cared. He just wanted out of this town and away from these memories.

“The truly terrible thing about memories is that you can’t escape them.” Castiel said, from beside him.

Derek jumped and stumbled and fell away from him, terrified out of his mind.

Castiel smiled slowly. “I have to admit, I enjoy doing that from time to time.”

“Where did you come from?” Derek asked, looking around.

“I can’t fly from this town, but I can still fly.” Cas said. He leaned back on the bench and Derek had to admit that he looked better. Not healthy, but not dying right at the moment either. The tshirt and jeans suited him. Derek caught sight of a silver chain around his neck, one of Dean’s rings on it. “Come sit with me for a moment.” Cas invited.

Wary was not the word for it, but Derek was slow to approach the bench anyway. Cas might have been an angel but he was still the current boyfriend of his ex-boyfriend and sometimes that was worth more trouble than anything else.

Derek sat and they looked out at the stars. “I heard the two of you. I was only dozing.” Cas said without preamble.

Derek didn’t reply, just looked down at his hands.

“I would like to think that werewolves are some of the more noble creatures that my Father created. More so than vampires or djinns or fae.” Cas said.

“Your- Father? You mean-”

“God, yes.” Cas said.

Derek blinked at him.

“He created the Heavens and the Earth, the moon and the stars. The sun and the sky.” Cas said gesturing to the dark sky. “He created everything, including werewolves.”

It took Derek a moment to process that. “What’s he like?”

Cas was slow to answer and Derek was about to say something else when Cas said softly, “Like any other father, I suppose. He’s everything. He left. He’s nothing. He’s all of it.” Cas tore his gaze away from the sky and regarded Derek for a long, silent moment. “Can I tell you Dean’s story?”

Derek couldn’t look away from Cas. “I know Dean’s story.”

“You know his origin story, as it’s called. Can I tell you the rest of it?” Cas asked gently.

“I want to hate him.” Derek pleaded softly.

“I know.” Cas said.

Finally, Derek nodded.

“I met him in Hell.” Cas said, watching Derek’s reaction.

“Cleveland?” Derek guessed.

“Hell. Literal Hell.” Cas said. “Sam was killed. Dean made a bargain. His life for Sam’s. There was no way out of it and he was sent to the pit. My father and the archangel Michael sent me and my garrison to retrieve him.”

Derek took another moment to process that information. “Why him?”

“He is the Righteous Man. By his blade the apocalypse could start or stop. The armies of heaven, the armies that I commanded, were supposed to reach him before he could take his blade up and start torturing. We were- I was too late.”

Derek blinked and looked down at his hands.

 _He’s all burned away. Long time ago._ Dean’s words echoed in Derek’s ear. He suddenly felt very, very ill and a little faint.

Cas put a hand on Derek’s shoulder and the physical feelings fled.

“What happened to him?” Derek asked, swallowing hard.

“He spent forty years in hell with their greatest torturer. Lucifer saw to it that Dean was underneath his knife as much as possible. He spent years under the man’s knife. Every day, Alastair would carve at him and take him apart in ways that I cannot bring myself to contemplate. And at the end of the day, Dean was put back together. Every day Alastair would offer him a chance to get off the rack, if Dean would take up the knife himself. For forty years, as the armies of heaven fought to get to him, he denied. Until, one day, his strength fled him.” Cas looked up at the dark sky. “He took up the knife himself and that’s how I found him. He fought me, at first. Then he begged me. Then he ordered me.”

“What do you mean?”

Cas looked at Derek with a small frown. “He thought that he was where he belonged. He thought that was where he was going to spend eternity. Worse yet, he thought that if he was brought from below, Sam would take his place.”

“Did he?” Derek whispered.

“No. Not then. It is-” Cas sighed. “It’s a complicated story.”

Derek had to take a moment to understand what Castiel had just told him. “Hell?” Derek repeated.

Cas nodded.

“And you brought him out.” Derek said.

Cas nodded again.

“That’s an unforgettable meeting.” Derek remarked.

Cas chuckled. “He doesn’t remember it. He doesn’t remember anything after Hell until he crawled out of his grave.”

Derek thought he was going to be sick again.

“It’s all right. He was ok. It took some time, a lot of hunting, denial, and a lot of alcohol-” Cas shrugged. “The usual Winchester method of dealing with things.”

“And you two got together?” Derek prompted.

Cas chewed on his lip. “The thing with Dean, that I had to understand, was the amount of hatred that had been instilled in him for himself. You were the only other male that Dean ever-” Cas stopped himself. “I find human language so limiting. You were the only other male that Dean ever let himself get attached to in a romantic manner. It was beaten into him that to love another person of the same sex was wrong. And in Hell-” Cas faltered. He stopped and spread his hands. “It’s Hell. What more can I say?”

Derek nodded and there was high pitched ringing in his ears that had nothing to do with his werewolf hearing.

“What I want you to understand, Derek, is that Dean is acting the way he is because if he lets him feel what I’m feeling, if he makes himself face that this might be it, in this shitty little town, no offense intended, then he might lose control.”

“And if he loses control, then what?”

Cas shook his head and looked down at his hands.

“Castiel.” Derek said. “I know he’s not human. Not anymore. Did this- did it happen in Hell?”

“No. Not the time you are referring to, anyway.” Cas muttered.

Derek’s head was hurting. “He’s been to hell more than once?”

“Him and Sam are what we call frequent fliers. Heaven, Hell, purgatory- they traverse the planes of existence like most people go to the grocery store.” Cas said with a deep sigh. “But no. It was- it was something else. It’s a very long, very complicated story but it comes down to the fact that Dean acquired the Mark of Cain. The father of murder,” Cas clarified. “After which, he learned that the Mark was driving him to do things that he would have otherwise never have done. Sam and I found a-” Cas paused, “A stopgap. As long as he keeps a lid on it, as long as he has Sam and I near, he can keep it at bay.”

“How bad?” Derek asked, sounding strangled.

Cas looked away and shook his head. “You don’t want to know, Derek. Hold on to what you remember. That Dean is in there somewhere, I know it.”

“Castiel, _how bad_?” Derek demanded.

Castiel looked pale in the moonlight. Derek had to remind himself that this guy, this angel, might be dying. Pushing him to face things that he’d tried hard to forget was probably the worst possible route. “I’ve lost count of how many people he killed before Sam and I could find the spell to stop him.”

Derek leaned back. “Were they bad people?”

“Does it matter?” Cas asked.

Derek sighed. “No, I guess not.”

They were silent. Cas looked up at the stars and Derek looked down at his hands.

“Why are you dying?” Derek finally asked.

“I’m being cut off from the Host.” Derek just looked confused. “The Heavenly Host is like- it supplies my batteries. My Grace. Whatever this sigils are, they are magnifying the Mark in Dean and cutting off the Grace in me.”

“They are making Dean worse and you-” Derek stopped himself. “Less.”

“That’s an apt description.” Cas agreed.

“And if you die-” Derek stopped himself.

“With the sigils still up and all of you trapped in here with him,” Cas shook his head. “I’m not even sure Sam would make it out then.”

“We have to get them down.” Derek declared.

“Yes.” Cas agreed. He grasped Derek’s arm and said, “Come on. They are wondering about us.”

Derek stood and Cas turned and Derek stumbled. It felt like something shifted, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was. Then he looked up and saw that Stiles’ house was right in front of them, instead of the library.

Cas smiled. “I like flying.”

Derek felt nauseous.

He stumbled after Cas as he made his way up the walk and into the door. Dean was in the kitchen and Cas made a beeline for him. Isaac was looking out the front window.

“Where’s Stiles?” Derek asked.

“Backyard with Sam.” Isaac said. Then he turned to Derek. “Is Sam a witch? Or warlock? Whatever. Is he?”

Derek cast a glance at Isaac and shook his head. “No.” Then he thought for a moment. “Maybe.” He said and then made his way through the kitchen and out into the backyard.

Stiles was flat on his back and Sam was staring down at him.

“I told you not to touch it.”

“Dude, you can’t tell someone not to touch it. Especially me. I’m like a five year old on a sugar high. Don’t touch it? I’m touching it.” Stiles groaned. “Oh god, I’m never going to have children.”

Sam opened his mouth, caught sight of Derek and chuckled. “Told you.” Sam muttered.

Stiles stood up and waved weakly at Derek. “Don’t touch the forcefield thingy.” He said, pointing to a general area behind Sam.

“I already did.” Derek said and leaned down for a kiss. Stiles obliged and Derek tasted warmth and electricity on his lips. “As I recall, it didn’t work out well for me.”

“But Dean can touch it. Sam can touch it.” Stiles whined. “I thought that since Sam-” Stiles stumbled over his words, “And Dean, too, obviously, were human and you weren’t and it shocked you that maybe it only shocked like, humans that aren’t human-”

“I talked to Cas. I know that Dean isn’t fully human.” Derek stopped and shrugged. “Shit happens.”

Stiles turned narrowed eyes at Sam. “Then what’s your deal?” He asked.

Sam frowned. “Cas told you?” He asked Derek.

“He explained that some things happened. I get the feeling he left some stuff out, but that’s neither here nor there.” Derek shrugged. “Why is it that you can touch it?” He asked, gesturing to the forcefield.

Sam looked at the forcefield and pushed his hand against it again. The same with Dean, sparks shot up, but there was no electricity. Sam felt a faint humming in his veins but it wasn’t unpleasant. “I have no idea. Maybe it’s because of the protection spells that Dean and I have on us.”

“The anti-possession symbol?” Stiles guessed.

 

“We have others.” Sam said. “We have this huge target painted on our backs, so we had to take precautions.”

“Where can I get those?” Stiles asked. Derek glanced over at Stiles and then did a double take. He was looking up at Sam in a way he hadn’t seen before. In a way that took him back for a second.

Stiles was looking up at Sam like he was a big brother. Like Cora used to; admiration and envy bundled up into one little neat package. And Sam-

Sam was grinning with it.

“They aren’t easy to come by. Castiel carved some into our ribs.” He said.

“Never mind.” Stiles muttered.

“Can you break it?” Derek asked, watching as Sam pressed his hand into it once more.

“I don’t think so.” Sam said, fascinated. He stepped back and pulled his gun out of the back of his pants and pressed his muzzle to the field and pulled the trigger. The bullet froze, an inch from the muzzle, and fell to the ground. “Hm.” He said.

“Sammy?” Dean said.

“Yeah?” Sam said, distracted. He looked up at the sky and Derek caught sight of the same weird shifting that indicated the forcefield. It looked like it was going over their heads.

“What time you got?”

Sam looked down at his watch. “Seven seventeen.” He said. He looked up at the dark sky again, back at Derek and then to the porch. “What the fuck?” He asked.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too.” Dean said. Cas and him joined the others out in the yard. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.” Sam said.

“Sam.” Dean chided.

“I don’t know!” Sam exclaimed. “A spell?”

“A spell to shut out the sun?” Dean said, walking over to Sam. Stiles could pick up the field behind them, wiggling just out of his line of sight.

“I don’t think that’s what this is.” Derek interjected. “To block out a force that huge would require something bigger than Death.”

“What do you think it is, then?” Dean asked.

“A time spell? Maybe froze time during the night?” Derek guessed. Then he shrugged.

Stiles looked over at Cas who looked impressed. “That would do it.” He said.

“So they froze time inside this little bubble-” Stiles trailed off. “Why?” Everyone looked at him. “I don’t actually have the answer.” Stiles said. “I was asking.”

Dean frowned and turned away. He poked at the field and watched the sparks fly around his finger.

“Dude, come on.” Sam muttered.

“Like you weren’t just out here doing the same thing.” Dean said.

“I was _testing_ it.”

Dean snorted and poked at the force field again. Sam pushed him. Dean pushed him back. Cas took a step back but didn’t take any particular interest in the two who seemed to be set on fighting each other.

Instead he pulled a phone from his jeans and frowned at it. He looked up at the sky again. Stiles watched Cas as he sidestepped Sam being shoved into him.

“Something you want to share with the rest of us, Castiel?” Stiles asked and jumped aside when Dean ducked a punch from Sam only to slap Sam in the face.

“Dude!” Sam said and tackled Dean. Dean laughed.

“I was just thinking-” Cas said and took a couple more steps back. “I wonder what time they froze us at.”

Derek pulled Stiles out of the way as Dean and Sam rolled around on the ground, trading punches.

“Is that-” Derek stepped out of the way again, frowning at the two as they started really hitting each other. “Is that important?” Derek asked. He glanced down when he heard Dean gasp and he smirked.

Castiel frowned and nodded. “It could be.” He looked down at his phone. “When’s the next full moon?”

“Should be tonight.” Derek said and watched, with some amusement, as Sam hauled Dean to his feet and punched him. Dean took the punch and then pulled Sam into him, to get him on the ground once again.

Sam’s hand to hand was devastating but Dean’s ground work was something that haunted Sam for days. They watched as Sam fell into Dean, Dean fell into the field-

And fell through it.

Sam and Dean immediately stopped. They froze and looked at each other, and then Castiel.

Cas approached the field slowly and nodded to Stiles. “Give me your gun.” He said.

Stiles handed it over and Cas repeated the same experiment that Sam had done earlier.

Same result.

A frozen bullet that eventually fell to the ground.

“Cas?” Dean said, standing slowly. “Can you-?”

Cas raised a hand and touched the field. Sparks flew and he jerked back. His eyes were wide and Dean regarded him with a bitter expression. “No, I didn’t think so.” He said. Dean offered a hand up to Sam and they both stepped back inside the field. “Fuck.” Dean said simply.

Cas looked forlorn.

“But, wait-” Stiles said and grabbed Dean’s wrist and put his hand to the field. Sparks flew, Stiles was shocked, but Dean was unable to get through. Sam tried as well. Nothing. “No, no.” Stiles said and grabbed Sam’s hand, put it on Dean’s shoulder and gestured to the field. “Try it now.”

Dean pushed through.

He looked at Stiles, his eyes wide. “Come here.” He said.

“No way, dude. I’m done being shocked.” Stiles said, stepping back.

“We could get you out.” Dean pointed out.

“Try Derek first.” Stiles said, taking another step back.

“No.” Cas said, stepping forward. “Logically, this spell is surrounding us. The ones who could potentially cause the most trouble. But is there someone who could- who isn’t as important?” Cas asked.

They heard the back door open and Isaac stepped outside. “I could try.” He said softly.

Derek looked down at his shoes but didn’t say anything.

“Dude, it hurts.” Stiles said.

“I know. But if I could get out, get some help-” Isaac shrugged and came down the back steps. “I mean, I couldn’t help with the memory thing.” He said. He looked at Sam and Dean, who both looked down at him. Isaac sighed and rolled his shoulders. “Let’s do this before I change my mind.”

Sam and Dean exchanged a look over his head and they both clasped his upper arm and stepped up to the field.  
The field seemed to bend for a second and Stiles saw both brothers straining, as though they were pushing against something, and finally they both stepped through, with Isaac in between them still. Isaac fell to the ground, gasping, and started dry heaving. Derek saw the tears streaming down his face.

But he was out.

He turned to look at Derek and Stiles.

“I don’t want to do that again.” He said and fell onto his back and looked up at the sky. He squinted. “It’s day out here.”

Derek and Stiles looked at each other. Sam hooked a hand around Dean’s arm and they stepped back through, easily this time.

“Why can they get through, but we can’t? How can they take some people through and not us?” Stiles asked Cas.

Cas sighed and sat down in the grass too. He rubbed at his face. The moonlight wasn’t kind on him, Stiles observed. Or he was just looking worse. “Rules don’t apply to them all the time. Maybe it’s the protection spells Sam and I have cast on them. Maybe it’s the power between the two of them. Maybe its just because they are Winchesters.” Cas shrugged. “There’s no telling.”

“Could they take others through?” Derek asked quietly. He glanced over at Isaac who was still laying on the grass on the other side of the field.

“If they aren’t required for the spell, I imagine so.” Cas said. “What are you thinking?”

Derek looked over at Stiles for a second before turning back to the others. “John. Melissa. The less collateral damage, the better off we would be.”

Sam saw all the blood leave Stiles’ face. “My _dad_?” He asked. “You want to send him away?”

“I want him to be safe. Melissa too.” Derek said softly.

Stiles closed his mouth and looked over at Isaac. “Can they handle it?”

Derek looked over at Sam and Dean. “I think so.” Sam said. “They’ll feel like shit, but I think they’ll be all right.”

John stepped out into the backyard just then. “Boys?” He said. Everyone turned to him. “What’s going on?”

~~~

Melissa stood and frowned at the field that she could barely see. Isaac stood on the other side. Melissa had keys in her hand to a storage shed where Derek kept an SUV in case of emergencies, just outside of town. Her purse was stuffed with as much money as she could fit in there, along with the four credit cards that Derek had initially given Stiles. She glanced over her shoulder at the men that stood behind her.

“And this will work?” She asked again, her voice unsure.

“You aren’t necessary to the spell. It should work.” Cas said.

She nodded and walked over to Stiles. She pulled him down to her height and hugged him tight. “You are one of the best things that ever happened to Scott. And I know you will get him out. I know you will.” She paused and then added gently, “Your mother would have been so proud of you, Stiles.”

Stiles buried his face in her hair and held her for a long moment. “We’ll get him out, Melissa.”

Melissa squeezed him one more time and nodded. Then she turned back to the field and stepped in between Sam and Dean. Sam leaned down and swept her up into his arms easily. “Whoa.” She said. Dean looped an arm around his brother’s waist, now prepared for the resistance of the force field and they stepped up to it.

“Ready?” Dean asked Melissa.

She looked worried and clung to Sam a little harder. “Yeah.” She whispered.

They stepped through the field and pushed through it. After a second, they stumbled through it and Sam sat down heavily, Melissa still in his arms. She looked pale to Derek and he stepped closer to the field. She leaned into Sam heavily and then turned her head. “Oh god.” She said and started retching as well. Sam held her hair back and Dean leaned down to rub her back.

“It passes pretty quick.” Isaac said.

John watched Melissa, worry on his face. He turned to Stiles. “I don’t have to go, son.” He said. He had a backpack on his shoulders filled with the supplies that they had given Stiles; the goofer dust, the binder full of sigils, mountain ash, weapons, holy water and one of Castiel’s angel blades.

“You have to.” Stiles said quietly, looking down at his hands. John was reminded of the times when Stiles would stay at Melissa’s house overnight. He would say those same words, maybe with a little more enthusiasm, about John taking the graveyard shift.

“I can stay here. I can fight.” John insisted.

“I know.” Stiles said, looking up at his dad. “But if they take you,” Stiles shook his head. “I’ll do anything I can to get you back. I’ll give them anything.” Stiles left part of what he meant unsaid. _If they take you, I’ll give myself up._

John knew that was true. He knew he would do the same thing. “Stiles-” He started and then stopped himself. He looked over at Melissa who was now leaning against Isaac. She was looking better, her color returning. “How am I supposed to leave you?” He asked.

Stiles shook his head. He didn’t have any answers. He wanted more than anything for his father to stay but making him leave was the only way to guarantee his safety. “I don’t know, dad.” He said.  
“You’ll come back to me?” John asked, looking at his little boy.

“Dad-” Stiles said.

“Lie to me.” John said and pulled Stiles in a fierce hug.

“I’ll come back. And we’ll have bacon cheeseburgers and Melissa will make us cheesecake and I won’t do this to you ever again.” Stiles said.

“That’s a good one.” John tried to laugh but he could already feel himself falling apart. “Does Melissa even make cheesecake?”

“I don’t know. We’ll go buy one.” Stiles said, hugging his dad even tighter. “Do you know where to go?”

“Kansas.” John said. “We’re going to Kansas.”

“Don’t stop till you get there.” Stiles said.

“We won’t.”

“Dad.” Stiles said, suddenly caught between asking him to stay and begging him to go.

“I know, baby.” John said.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look and Dean had to wonder how much differently their lives would have turned out if their father had been like Stiles’.

John pulled back and took the chain off Stiles neck. He pulled his wedding ring off and looped it through the chain before putting it back on Stiles’ neck. “You take that. You take that where ever you go.”

Stiles didn’t even try to hide the tears. “Yeah.” He nodded.

John stepped back. He pulled Derek into an unexpected hug. “Bring him back to me.” John whispered.

“I swear it.” Derek promised.

John stepped away from Derek and then up to Sam and Dean. Dean looked at him. “Do you want me to carry you?”

“Do you want me to punch you?” John asked.

Dean smiled. “Fair enough.”

They both leaned down and looped their arms around John’s waist and pushed through the field once again. On the other side, the three of them collapsed, even Sam and Dean looking a little worse for wear.

Dean pulled Sam back up and they struggled through one last time and fell through to the other side. “I don’t think we can do that again.” Dean said, on his hands and knees, panting. “It’s getting stronger.”

“They’re using more sigils.” Cas said, looking pale. He slowly lowered himself onto his back so that he was staring up at the sky.

Stiles stepped up to the forcefield and watched his dad for a long moment. He could see him, clear as day. He could hear Melissa consoling him as he dry heaved and tried to catch his breath. It was a scant foot that separated him from his father. Finally, John was able to get a hold of himself and stood, looking pale and ill nonetheless.

“Stay safe. You know where the gun cabinet is.” John said.

“Yeah, dad. I know.” Stiles said. “You guys have to go now. I don’t know if they can feel that you’ve left, but you need to go. Get as much distance between us and you as you can.”

John nodded. “Stay safe.”

Stiles bowed his head and felt his heart break. “I will dad.” He said. He listened as his father walked away. He did not look up.

~~~

Dean hauled Cas to his feet and into the house. It looked like Dean was taking almost all of his weight but he didn’t ask for help.

“Come on. I’m putting you to bed and giving you chicken soup or something.” Derek heard him say.

“Chicken soup will have no effect on me.” Cas said.

“It’ll make me feel better.” Dean said dejectedly.

“Ok.” Cas agreed.

They made their way up the walk and everyone else watched them.

“He wasn’t lying when he said that he’s dying.” Derek said softly.

“Dean will joke about a lot of stuff, but not that.” Sam said softly. “Never that.” He followed his brother up the walk and onto the porch and opened the door for him.

Stiles turned to Derek and leaned into his chest. “What are we going to do?”

Derek raised his hand and threaded his fingers through Stiles’ hair. “We got this.”

“Our ace in the hole is dying.” Stiles moaned.

“We’ve got Sam. Dean. Me.” Derek said.

“What the hell is Sam though? Just like me, but knows a couple spells. And what the hell is Dean?” Stiles asked and looked up at Derek.

“I don’t know. But we will get through this. And we’ll have everyone back.” Derek promised. He pulled Stiles towards the house. “Come on. We need to figure some stuff out.”

Sam was sitting at the kitchen table, an open book in front of him. He was watching the front room where Dean was leading Cas out and to the Impala.

“Where are they going?” Derek asked.

“They need to be alone.” Sam said softly. “It’s not like they can go far.”

~~~

Dean lowered Cas into the passenger seat and buckled him in. He slid behind the wheel and started the engine up and he looked over at Cas. His eyes were already closed and Dean sighed. He pulled out of the driveway and headed to the edge of town. He parked at the edge of a overgrown field and turned off the lights. Cas was asleep again and Dean reached over and held his hand.

He had forgotten how simple things like this were. Reaching out for Cas and finding him there. Feeling for him in the dark when the nightmares were the worst and painted in red and black. Smiling up at him from the table. Beers in the forest. Wrapped up in him at night. Watching tv with him. Watching him research with Sam.

Dean leaned back and sighed. He looked up at the sky in front of him and the stars that shouldn’t be there. The mark on his arm wouldn’t let him die; enough people had tried that he knew it was impossible. So he knew that if he didn’t get it off his arm soon, that meant that he would be stuck here without Sam.

Without Sam.

It was such a strange thought, living and breathing and fighting god knows what without Sam by his side. Without his brother by his side, it would be worse than losing his right hand, it would be like losing his sight or his hearing. As long as he could remember, it was him and Sam, fighting the good fight.

Saving people.

Hunting things.

The family business.

But even with hunters, even knowing the weird shit that they knew, couldn’t predict what would be thrown their way. Dean had no way of knowing that one day he would meet someone, someone who would turn his life upside down and then make it right again. That’s what Cas did.

And with those two that’s where Dean knew he had the most control; when he knew that Sam had his back and Cas was at his side. He didn’t need much else beyond that. Dean mentally shrugged and figured that if the Mark was good for anything, it was that. He needed Cas and Sam around him to keep the roiling anger inside him under control but the Mark took care of everything else. Sleep, hunger, thirst. It was all kept at bay.

It was a very delicate balance but served its purpose.

Now with Cas slipping away, slowly and not without a fight, he could feel the Mark itching at the back of his brain again. He had barely kept himself from lashing out at Derek at the house, he was barely able to keep from storming whatever stronghold was in the woods to get those kids back so he could leave and be done with Derek Hale and his werewolf issues.

He glanced over at Cas who was still breathing deeply, still soundly asleep. He raised Castiel’s hand to his lips and laid a kiss there, and closed his eyes. If this was it for Cas, then Dean would have to walk away from it all. He couldn’t kill Sam and complete Cain’s prediction. He wouldn’t sink that low. He would have to let go of Cas, of everyone and everything he had known. Dean knew that if he did otherwise, everyone would end up dead. Like Cain, he would find some place out of the way, some place that no one would know him or try to get to know him.

Dean opened his eyes to look up at Cas. His nap seemed to restore him a little and he was staring at Dean with that same inscrutable look that was just all Cas.  
“Dean. Don’t think that way.” Cas chided gently.

“I can’t help it.” Dean muttered, looking down at their hands. Both worn, scarred, but capable. “If I lose you, everything else is gone. Everything. You know what I am and you forgave me-”

“And I love you unconditionally.” Castiel reminded him. He was still reclined against the seat, watching Dean. “And wherever I end up, wherever I go, I’ll love you unconditionally. If that’s what you need to know, if that’s what need to hang on to, keep that.” Cas reached for Dean’s neck where there was a silver chain, delicate and thin. Derek had been wrong earlier when he thought that Cas wore Dean’s ring around his neck. They had picked out rings together and the chains. There was no ceremony other than Dean looping a chain around Castiel’s neck and Cas doing the same for Dean. Cas had tangled their fingers together and pressed them over Dean’s heart. “You keep me.” He murmured. He slid his hand over the Mark and made Dean look him in the eye. “You keep me.” Cas whispered insistently.

Dean could only nod, then and now.

“I know, Cas. But what if- without you- I can’t?” He whispered.

Cas cradled Dean’s face in his hands, his long fingers brushing the tips of Dean’s hair. “After all this time, after all that we’ve been through, you still insist on underestimating yourself. Any other person, this Mark would have eaten them up, taken them down and raised Hell. You,” Cas said softly, “Are strong enough for this.”

“I’m not.” Dean whispered, feeling something inside of him threaten to break open.

Cas chuckled and leaned back. “Do you remember what I was like when I first met you in the barn? You called me Heaven’s holy tax accountant.”

Dean, unable to see the connection, could only nod.

“And now look at me. I bring down Heaven’s wrath on this earth to clean it up. After the mess that I caused, after the destruction that three of have caused, I am here now. I am here, with you, in this car, on this earth. You are the one I gave everything up for.” Cas looked over at him. “And in all my very long life, Dean Winchester, this is the only time that I can tell you that without regret, I am here.”

Dean tightened his hold on Castiel’s hand and took a deep breath that he didn’t need anymore.

“Do you remember when you made me go camping? And Sam laughed when he heard because an angel of the lord, roughing it out in the woods?” Cas continued. “I hated it. But when we were laying out underneath the stars, counting them and I was telling you all the myths, all the ways your ancestors explained away the mysteries of the universe so that they wouldn’t fear the dark, I named them all after you.” Cas closed his eyes and he smiled broadly. “My sky is made up of you, Dean. My heaven is with you. My life, as an angel or mortal, is with you.”

“What am I supposed to do without you?” Dean asked.

Cas open his eyes and regarded him for a long moment and reached up to trace his jaw and his lips. He skimmed his fingers over Dean’s eyebrows and then, when Dean closed his eyes, his eyelids. “The story says that God so loved this earth that he gave his only begotten son. You understand a love like that. A love that consumes, that creates, that will take something tarnished and broken and make it clean and whole again.” Cas tugged the chain out from under Dean’s shirt. “You made me whole and clean again, Dean. You consumed me.”

“Cas-” Dean started and realized he was out of words. There was no way to articulate a loss like this.

“You will bear this loss, Dean. You will.” Cas insisted when Dean’s eyes got wide. “And that will be the hardest part.”

Dean got out of the car after a moment and went to Castiel’s side of the car. He helped him out of it and closed the door. Dean crowded Cas against the closed door and wrapped his arms around his waist and buried his face into Cas’ neck. Cas held him and pressed kisses into Dean’s neck and when Dean finally pulled back, he lightly kissed his mouth, his eyes and his cheeks.

“We have to go back.” Cas whispered.

“Just a minute more.” Dean pleaded and kissed Castiel back, lingering over Castiel’s lips for minute more, before nodding and pulling back. Underneath the stars that Castiel swore belonged to Dean, he started to feel the loss. And he started to feel himself bear it, despite the weight.

In the car, Cas settled back and closed his eyes again. Below the rumble of the engine, sweet as a child’s prayer, Dean heard Cas say, “You are the stars in my sky, Dean Winchester.”


	10. Chapter 10

**[ ** Playlist ** ](https://play.spotify.com/user/ymfnm/playlist/7CqUQLTmkwj9aS4Q0uHY0a) **

_**September 1997** _

Dean frowned at his face in the mirror. The bruise on his jaw was lightening, but the knot on the back of his head had kept him awake last night, whenever he tried to sleep on his back or rolled over on it. He growled, still pissed off that those guys had gotten the jump on him.

On the bright side, at least his father wasn’t here to rail him about it.

He scooped his backpack off the ground and headed for the front door where Sam was waiting outside.

“Where’s your jacket?” Dean asked, when he saw that all Sam had on was a light hoodie.

“Cora wants to borrow this one.” Sam said plucking at the jacket.

“So why don’t you take yours too?” Dean asked, frowning.

“I don’t want to carry it.” Sam said and they set out for school. They followed the same path to the bleachers and the field and the school beyond.

“Should I be worried for you?” Dean asked casually as they crossed the field.

Sam looked down at their shoes, and chewed on his lower lip. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. If you are asking if I think they’ll come after me again, no. I don’t think so.” He looked up at his big brother. “I’m just kind of worried about you and Derek.”

Dean snorted and shifted his bag on his shoulder. There hadn’t been an actual talk about him and Derek and Dean was kind of hoping to keep it that way.

“Not that way, you idiot.” Sam muttered, watching Dean squirm. “I mean, well kind of. If they saw the two of you doing anything last night… People are assholes, is all I’m saying.”

“That’s true. But hey, with you around to protect me, what do I have to worry about?” Dean asked, pushing Sam playfully.

“I’m not the one who pistol whipped someone.” Sam pointed out.

“I’m not the one who brought the gun to a fist fight.” Dean argued.

Sam grinned but didn’t purse the argument further. They entered the school and watched as students parted around them once again. People were shifting around Dean and glancing at him and whispering.

“… _Derek.”_

“… _in the woods.”_

“… _last night.”_

“… _says they were kissing.”_

Dean arched an eyebrow at Sam. “Looks like I’m gonna be real popular here.”

“Dean.” Sam warned.

Dean shrugged. “I can’t help it.” They stopped at the intersection of the hallway where Sam left to his locker and Dean went to his own. Cora would be waiting for Sam, he knew. He would pass Derek by on the way to his own. He frowned and looked at Sam. He looked pale, a little tired. “You all right?” He asked.

Sam was not, in fact, all right. He had woken last night twice with nightmares. The second had been so bad that he had to tiptoe into the living room to reassure himself that Dean was ok. Seeing his brother limp and bleeding between two guys and Derek pleading with Cora to run, to get their mother-

Sam was not used to being on the losing end of a fight. Not with Dean anyway.

“Just tired.” Sam replied. He glared at a guy who was looking at Dean oddly and watched the guy scuttle away.

“All right. Well. No excitement tonight. We’ll just go home after school and you can chill. Yeah?”

“Yeah, Dean. Sounds good.” Sam said and began to walk away. Dean watched him for a moment before sighing and turning away.

Sam had never been good at hiding things from Dean.

Dean spotted Derek through the shifting crowd and made his way over to him. He felt his heart rate double and leaned up against the locker next to Derek’s. Derek smiled when he saw him out of the corner of his eye.

“Hey there, handsome.” Derek said conversationally, knowing that Dean had probably spent all morning frowning at the mirror over his swollen lip and the bruise on his jaw and the cut on his eyebrow.

“I’ve had better days.” Dean said.

Derek closed his locker and leaned against it, mirroring Dean’s position. “Maybe.” He said and traced the cut on Dean’s lip lightly. “But I hear chicks dig scars.”

Dean snorted. He studied Derek’s face closely. There were only a couple of scratches on his forehead and cheeks. “But you look amazing.” Dean said.

“It was mostly swelling. Mom made this herb pack thing and made me ice my face until I thought my nose was going to fall off from frost bite.” Derek said.

They turned and made their way to class, walking close. “How’s Cora?” Dean asked.

“Nightmares.” Derek admitted. “She couldn’t sleep last night and made me leave my bedroom door open. Sam?”

“He woke up a couple times last night.” Dean said and sighed. “I’m not even that angry about my face. Now I’m just pissed off about what this is doing to Sam, ya know?” Dean sighed. “It would be nice if we could go to school in one place where shit just _doesn’t_ happen.”

Derek nodded. He had so far avoided thinking about what could have happened if Sam hadn’t been so capable and calm. The four of them outnumbered in the woods… Derek shook his head and the teacher came in right then. His eyes settled on Dean and Derek and their obvious battle wounds.

“All right there, gentlemen?” He asked.

“Yes, sir.” Dean said with a wide grin.

“Good. Then let’s get started.” He said.

Dean leaned forward and Derek knew he was going to ask for a pen but he waited for a second, just to feel his breath on his neck.

“Dude, you got a pen?” Dean finally asked after a second’s hesitation.

Derek smiled and handed on back to him.

~~~

Cora pulled on the hoodie at her locker. She was drowning in it, like Sam predicted.

“Thanks.” She said and smiled brilliantly.

People were giving them wide berth. They were not taking the sheriff’s word for it; they all thought Sam might have a gun and was liable to start shooting the place up after his brother beat half the lacrosse team to death.

“Why did you want it?” He asked.

“It’s a wer- Friday afternoon thing.” Cora said. Sam raised his eyebrows. “It’s an extra layer of protection. For you.” She muttered. “Why do you think Derek always sits so close to Dean? Other than the obvious.” Cora said and rolled her eyes at Sam’s look. “Each one of us has a scent as individual as fingerprints. Derek protects Dean that way. I can do the same for you.”

Sam opened his mouth. “But Cora, you and I aren’t-”

Cora patted his arm consolingly. “I know we aren’t Sam. But you are a very good friend.” She peered up at him and pulled the hoodie closer to her shoulders. “My best friend, probably.”

Sam shut his mouth. This was how Cora could protect him when she wasn’t around. He would take it.

~~~

At lunch, Sam sat down and looked up to see Derek already swinging a leg over the bench opposite him.

Derek didn’t scare Sam. Sam just felt an instinctual wariness around him. It was even before he had known about the whole werewolf thing. Sam wondered if what he felt was from being around hunting so long, from learning things from his dad and Dean.

Derek leaned over the table and looked at Sam for a long moment. Sam pulled his lunch from his bag and set it on the table between him. He felt his heart beating, a little faster than normal, but it wasn’t because of Derek. He had felt that way all day long, waiting for the lacrosse players to do something. Sam had seen Jesse earlier, both his eyes black, bandages over his nose.

“Sam.” Derek said softly.

Sam looked up and met Derek’s eyes.

“Do you know?” He asked in that same low voice. Sam glanced around for Dean but Derek shook his head. “He’s at his locker. It’s stuck.”

Slowly Sam nodded.

“Does Dean know?” He asked.

Sam shook his head. “Derek, our family- my dad, me, Dean. We are hunters.” Sam said softly.

Derek sat back and regarded Sam slowly. “Is that why you guys can do all the stuff you can? Is that why you have a gun?”

“Yeah.” Sam said.

Derek looked down and drummed his fingers on the table. On the plus side, he didn’t get up and walk away. He didn’t try to kill Sam, another plus. But there was no mistaking that look of disappointment in his eyes and the way his fist tightened. He took a deep breath. “Hunters killed my father and my sister.” He finally said. He raised his eyes to Sam’s and there was no mistaking that flash in his eyes.

Sam did recoil then and had to fight the urge to reach for the small knife he kept in his pocket.

“That wasn’t us.” He said softly. “A demon killed my mother. That’s what my father has us out after.”

Derek looked away and took a deep breath. “Sam-”

“We can leave, if that’s what you want. I can call my dad and make him come home.” Sam said softly. He saw Derek’s eyes flicker behind him and knew Dean had entered the lunch room. “But I don’t think that’s what you want, is it?”

Derek regarded him for a long moment. “Does he know?”

“No. He _can’t_ , Derek.” Sam leaned forward and grabbed Derek’s wrist. “We’re going to leave. That’s just how our lives are. _We’re going to leave._ And when we do, just let it be, ok?” Sam asked. He squeezed Derek’s wrist. “All right?”

Derek realized the full implication of what Sam was asking of him. That when he and Dean left, that would be it. That would be the end of whatever it was they had.

“ _Please_ , Derek.” Sam begged. “I know my brother better than anyone else. I don’t want him to get hurt. He’s had enough of that.” Sam pulled back and looked down at his own hands. “If he knew that we were keeping this from him-” Sam shook his head and looked up at him.

Derek nodded, faintly.

Dean sat down next to Derek and grumbled about his locker. He watched as Derek leaned very slightly into Dean’s presence and felt Cora sit down next to him. Underneath the table, she squeezed his hand reassuringly before looking at their brothers. She must have had the conversation.“Ugh, you guys are gross.” She said.

Derek rolled his eyes.

She took a bite of her sandwich before looking over at Sam. “Mom wants you guys over this week sometime for dinner.” She said.

“Really?” Dean asked and frowned at his lunch. “Dude, you got mine.” He said to Sam before he switched their lunches. “I thought we would have been at the bottom of her list for dinner invites.” He said.

“Nah, she loves you guys. She _doesn’t_ love that you are alone so much.” Cora frowned at Sam’s peanut butter and banana sandwich. “ _That’s_ gross.” She declared.

“We’re ok with being alone. She doesn’t have to put herself out.” Dean said.

“No, you don’t understand.” Derek said. “Talia Hale invited you over to dinner. The only thing that is being left up to you is what day.”

“Your mom is big deal in town?” Dean asked.

“Everyone knows her. Everyone loves her. You saw how the sheriff was.” Derek said and stole one of Dean’s chips. “The city council kind of depends on her to shift things one way or the other. I don’t know man, people just listen to her.” Derek said with a shrug.

Derek knew exactly what it was. People loved Talia for the fact that there something mesmerizing about her. It might have been the shifting ability she had, the otherworldly power that she held loosely in her hands, or the obscene amount of wealth she had, but whatever it was, people came to her with problems, concerns. The kids were not unused to seeing the sheriff’s vehicle outside of their home. Sheriff Stilinski would sometimes ask her for advice on politically motivated crimes.

“Well, Sam isn’t up to it tonight, but how about tomorrow?” Dean suggested.

Derek and Cora both groaned.

“What?” Dean said, looking alarmed.

“Man, you should have just said no. Now that we know Sam isn’t feeling up to it, she’s going to get it out of us and she’s going to be over there mothering Sam to death.” Derek said.

“Why? He’s just tired.” Dean said.

They both groaned again.

“What now?” Dean asked.

“Why is he tired? Is he scared because of the fight? Do you let him stay up till all hours of the night? Is he not eating right? Is he getting enough exercise?” Cora asked.

“Are those boys still bothering you? Do you want me to speak to their parents? Why don’t you just stay at our house tonight, just to make me feel better?” Derek said. “This is what we are going to hear when we get home.” He shook his head. “There’s no way to avoid it.”

Sam took a bite of his sandwich and watched the conversation flow between the other three easily. He was going to miss the easy smile on Dean’s face and he was going to miss the reassuring presence of Cora next to him. He was even going to miss the way Derek glowered at people who got too close to their group.

“So should we expect her tonight?” Dean asked, nudging Derek with his shoulder.

“Or you guys can come over tonight.” Derek shrugged, letting his shoulder brush Dean’s. “It’s up to you.”

Dean looked over at Sam with raised eyebrows. Sam shrugged, leaving the decision up to Dean. He knew he didn’t look great, but he could get through a dinner with Talia if it would put her mind at ease; it wasn’t so much to ask.

“We’ll come over tonight.” Dean decided after studying Sam’s face for a long moment.

“Awesome.” Cora said. She peered at Sam. “You do kind of look like shit.” She said.

“Thanks.” Sam said and rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’ll do the homework tonight.” She said. “You should probably take a nap.”

“I can’t let you do that.” Sam said.

“Yeah, you can.” She said.

“So I was thinking about this weekend.” Dean said suddenly. Derek and Cora turned to him. “If you guys aren’t busy, what do you think about fixing up Cora’s old tree house?”

“Really?” She asked and choked on one of her fries.

“Yeah.” Dean said. “It should take maybe a day, a day and a half. What do you think?” He asked Derek. “You’ll be my right hand in this.” He said.

Derek nodded. “We don’t have any plans.”

“Great.” Dean said. “Don’t plan on sleeping in though. We’re getting an early start.”

Sam groaned inwardly. When Dean got started on a project like this, they were often up early and doing manual labor for the majority of the day. Once, he had made Sam help patch the roof of an elderly woman’s house and it had meant sacrificing a spring break. But Dean was always good about sticking to timelines, so at least Sam knew that it would only be one weekend he would have to get up before the crack of dawn.

~~~

The week passed without any more “incidents” as Talia had referred to them as. There were a few dirty looks and something happened in the locker room that Dean didn’t talk about with even Derek, but it was quiet. Especially for the Winchesters.

Sam couldn’t help but feel wary about it.

Saturday dawned bright and early with Sam climbing into Derek’s uncle’s truck. Cora was already in the back, Sam’s hoodie wrapped around her, leaning against the other door and snoring. Sam scooted over close to her, leaned into her and closed his eyes. The sound of the engine, something that had lulled him to sleep since he could remember, and Cora’s breathing had him fast asleep.

“The lumber store is about forty five minutes away.” Derek told Dean and handed him a thermos filled with coffee.

Dean took a sip and raised his eyebrows. “This is good.” He said and took a bigger drink.

“I’ll let Cora know you think so.” Derek said as he shifted the old truck into gear and turned onto the street.

Dean turned around to tell Cora himself but saw that she was fast asleep, the hood of Sam’s hoodie around her face, Sam leaning against her, both of them fast asleep.

“I wish I had a camera.” Dean said.

Derek used the rear view mirror to catch a glimpse of the two of them. “Aw.” He said. “If I weren’t sure that Sam wasn’t interested in Cora in a girlfriend way, I’d be worried.”

Dean huffed a laugh out and nodded. Derek reached his hand out for Dean’s hand and Dean laced their fingers together. Derek kept his eyes on the road, his free hand on the wheel, tapping a beat out on the wheel. He looked wide awake and rested. Dean stared at him for a long time while Derek drove easily in and out of traffic, whistling softly.

Derek tapped his fingers against the back of Dean’s hand.

“What’s on your mind? You’ve been staring at me for ten minutes.” He said.

“Oh, you don’t want to know what I’m thinking about.” Dean said, a smirk on his mouth.

“You aren’t thinking about _that._ ” Derek said.

“How would you know?” Dean asked, licking his lips now. His mind had definitely veered off into other places at his own comment.

Derek smiled and passed an old blue car in front of them. “Because, Winchester, you aren’t that sneaky. Not around me, anyway. So tell me what you _were_ thinking.”

Dean hadn’t actually been thinking of a whole lot. More that he was warm. He was happy. The few nights that Talia had insisted that him and Sam come over for dinner had saved him some money so for once, him and Sam had been able to have a big breakfast and not have to worry about later, if they would have food or money. He was driving with this amazing person that didn’t seem to have a secret agenda. Sam was safe, warm, fed and in the backseat. The scenery was ablaze with reds and golds and varying degrees of green. It was beautiful.

“I’m glad we’re here.” Dean finally said, figuring the words out.

“Me too.” Derek said quietly, raising Dean’s hand to his mouth and kissing his knuckles.

And it was shit like that, that gave Dean a moment’s pause. Just a brief thought of _What if…_ He never let himself follow that thought to far along its track. He feared that if he did, when his dad came back, he wouldn’t leave. He wouldn’t be able to find it in himself to tell Talia no, they couldn’t possibly stay. He worried that if he did, that this place, Beacon Hills, would be the place that he would live and die in. He would stay with Derek and he would go to school and maybe he would go to college or maybe not. Sam would go and him and Cora would be best friends forever and maybe Cora would have kids that would call him Uncle Dean. The temptation was too great, but he could feel it growing in his chest, he could feel it taking root there and the warning in the back of his head that it might break him into pieces.

Instead, Dean smiled and shoved those thoughts into the back of his head and scooted closer to Derek.

The rest of the ride was quiet, the radio playing in the background, Derek’s hand loose around Dean’s and Sam and Cora asleep in the back.

When they finally got to the lumber store, they had to wake Cora and Sam. They grumbled until Cora produced another thermos and they handed it back and forth while they glared at their brothers.

Once inside, Dean produced a piece of paper from his wallet where he had scribbled down some measurements earlier that week. Sam and Cora followed at a distance, shuffling along. As the week had progressed, Sam couldn’t help but notice that Cora had begun to be even more tactile with him. And the funny thing was, he didn’t think that she even noticed it. He didn’t mind the small, easy touches she did unconsciously. Even if he had no romantic interest in her, and she had none in him, it was a nice change to being touched in a gentle and easy manner. Something he wasn’t used to, but something he could find himself getting used to in the future.

In the store, she stayed by his side, as was usual. They looked up at the ridiculous piles of wood and followed Dean and Derek at a distance. They could hear them quietly arguing about the lumber and the quality. They stopped at an impressive amount of boards already precut and Dean gestured to it and Derek, who was pushing the large cart that they would pile the wood on, shook his head and muttered something to Dean who threw up his hands in frustration.

“Can you hear them?” Sam asked.

Cora redirected her gaze from a group of men down the aisle to Dean and Derek. “Yeah. They are arguing about what length and width they should get.”

“Like, a real fight?” Sam asked.

“No, like they are both idiots and are arguing for the sake of arguing.” Cora said. She rolled her eyes. “It’s nothing.” She looked back over at the guys down the aisle.

“What’s that about?” Sam asked, following her gaze to the men at the end of the aisle. There were five of them, in their mid twenties it looked like. Their cart was piled with lumber already and they were looking at an overly large display with various fasteners on it.

“Huh?” Cora asked, distracted. Sam had to wonder how much sleep she had gotten. “Nothing.” She said. Then she cocked her head to the side as she continued to stare at the group of men that was further down the aisle from Derek and Dean. Sam watched them and then glanced at Derek and Dean as Derek leaned into Dean for a quick kiss. It was something that Sam had surprisingly gotten used to very easily. Even in school, when they were much more restrained in their affections, there were still little things that were obvious. If Dean left his hand too long on the lunch table, Derek would inevitably rest his fingers on Dean’s wrist. Derek’s sweatshirts had found their way into Dean’s laundry. The quick looks with quirked lips were normal.

But Cora caught the look of two of the guys down the aisle from them, the disgust painting their features. Dean and Derek were too wrapped up in their purchases and each other to take note, but Sam and Cora were not. They stopped at a distance from their brothers and the men down the aisle.

“Do we do anything?” Sam asked.

“No.” Cora said. “It doesn’t sound like they are going to do anything.” She took a deep breath and glanced around them. “Doesn’t smell like it either.”

Sam shook his head. “If you say so.”

“Just watch them.” Cora advised, watching the men rather than their brothers.

Derek and Dean pushed their cart a little further down the aisle and Cora and Sam lingered where they were. Dean reached into the pile of lumber and began selectively pulling pieces of wood out of the pile, checking them to make sure that they weren’t warped and placing them in the cart while Derek watched, a smirk on his face. It seemed like he had won some kind of argument. Dean leaned over further into the pile of wood and when he straightened up, he smacked his head on the upper part of the metal beam holding the lumber in place. Sam winced in sympathy, knowing the bump on the back of his head from earlier in the week had finally healed.

“Shit.” Dean said loudly, handing the piece of wood off to Derek before raising his hands to his head.

The men down the aisle snickered and Cora was able to hear clearly, “You’d think someone _like that_ would be able to handle wood better.”

“Uh oh.” Cora said, straightening up as Derek placed the piece of lumber in the cart and whirled around.

“I would just like one week of peace.” Sam muttered behind her, as they made their way down the aisle to Derek who was already more than halfway to the group of guys and Dean, who was looking confused.

“What happened?” He asked Cora as she passed by.

“The dude down here said something.” She said and gestured to her brother. “Derek is going to defend your honor.”

Dean frowned and followed Cora at a more sedate pace. Sam joined his brother’s side.

“This place is exciting.” Sam remarked.

“The lumber yard?” Dean asked.

“Beacon Hills.” Sam said.

“Oh, yeah.” Dean said and rolled his eyes. He approached the group where Derek was ready to square off against at least two of the members of the group and Cora had her hand on his arm. “Derek, come on. It’s nothing.”

It was actually probably nothing to Dean. He had dealt with this sort of thing before and he was used to the comments. Not to say they didn’t piss him off still but he didn’t want to waste precious energy and probably get kicked out of the closest lumber store before the day even _started_.

“You didn’t hear what he said.” Derek growled as two of the guys smirked at Derek. The other three looked a little ill at ease. Maybe they were able to feel the violence coming off Derek in waves, or maybe they just didn’t agree with their friends. It was hard to tell.

“It doesn’t matter what they said.” Dean said quietly, stepping up to Derek’s side. He looked down at the ground, while Derek continued to sneer at the group. “You can’t beat common decency into people, no matter how much you might want to.”

Derek seemed to deflate at Dean’s words as they rang true in his head.

“Yeah, listen to your _boyfriend_.” One of them said, the voice nasal and grating.

Dean smiled down at the ground and raised his eyes to the guy. “Is that supposed to be an insult?” He asked, voice gentle and forgiving. “He is my boyfriend. You are just stating the obvious.”

The guy seemed to be at a loss in the face of the truth.

“Come on, Derek.” Cora said softly. “It doesn’t matter.” She said, repeating Dean’s words.

Derek nodded, once and turned. Dean left with him but Cora and Sam lingered for a second. They had matching looks of disgust on their faces and turned as one.

“Knew they wouldn’t fight.” The one with the nasally voice said to his group, loud enough for everyone to hear. Sam watched as Dean and Derek spun around but Cora beat them to it, with a vicious right hook that caught the guy square in the jaw and laid him out on the floor, out cold. She stood there, her feet shoulder width apart, her hands clenched.

“I’m his _little sister_. You think you can handle them?” She asked. Then she pointed at the group and Sam watched, amused, as two of them raised their hands in surrender. “It’s 1997, goddamnit. Get with the program.” She hissed. She turned and left, and Sam watched after her and then shrugged at the group.

“Dude.” Dean said to Cora when she returned. “Is your hand ok?” He asked, reaching for her hand. One of her knuckles was split but she seemed fine.

“Derek taught me how to punch.” Cora said, letting Dean look at her hand. “I’m fine.”

“You sure? You hit him _really_ hard.” Dean said.

“I’m fine. Sam and I are going to go wait outside so you won’t get thrown out with us.” She said, as a security guard rounded the corner. She grabbed Sam’s hand. “Come on, Sam.”

Derek tossed him the keys and they walked quickly to the exit.

They were sitting on the tailgate when Derek and Dean came out of the store. They were passing the cold thermos back and forth and watched their brothers approach.

“Move it or lose it.” Derek told them as he and Dean began loading the wood. They tossed a bag of nails and a can of paint into the backseat and everyone piled back into the truck to make the trek back home.

Everyone was awake this time and the drive was just as leisurely, with little talk and everyone mostly watching the scenery pass by.

The familiar strains of a song came on and Derek leaned forward and turned the radio up.

 

“ _So long ago, I don’t remember when_

_That’s when they say I lost my only_

_Well they said she died easy of a broken heart disease_

_As I listened through the cemetery trees…”_

 

Sam hummed along with the lyrics, having heard this song countless times the summer before when he and Dean had left another small town, leaving behind a pretty red head in their wake. They had had the Impala to themselves for an entire week and Dean had listened to this song over and over.

 

“ _Hey come on, try a little_

_Nothing is forever_

_There’s got to be something better than_

_In the middle_

_But me and Cinderella_

_We put it all together_

_We can drive home_

_With one headlight…”_

 

Dean sang along and Derek and Cora turned to stare. Sam smiled, knowing they were probably surprised. People always were when Dean sang. His voice was husky and slow, similar to Dylan Thomas’. Dean sang along, his head tipped back against the seat, eyes closed. Dean was thinking about those rambling trips him and Sam used to take, with this tape playing in the background. It was their first taste of freedom, on the back roads of a Native American reservation in New Mexico, leaving a trail of dust in their wake. Dean knew, at sixteen years old, that his home would always be on the road, in his car (because make no mistake, the car was and always would be, his) with his brother at his side.

 

“ _It feels like Independence Day_

_And I can’t break away from this parade_

_But there’s got to be an opening_

_Somewhere in front of me_

_Through this maze of ugliness and greed_

_And I seen the sun up ahead_

_At the county line bridge_

_Sayin’ all there’s good and nothingness is dead…”_

 

Derek turned his eyes back to the road, only out of necessity. He could have kept driving for days, he knew, with Dean at his side singing along with radio. The light was filtering through the trees that they were passing under, lighting Dean up like he was blessed from on high. Derek was fairly certain that Dean wasn’t even sure that him and Cora were watching him, their mouths agape. He blinked at the road a few times before turning his eyes back to Dean, memorizing the line of his throat, the cut of his chin, the freckles on his nose and cheeks.

This was the memory that he pressed away for when he knew that Dean was gone. This would be the time he remembered when Dean was gone, when he couldn’t reach out for him, brush his shoulders or find that divot right at his hip. This would be the time Derek would remember when all he would want was the ghost of Dean’s lips on his, just out of reach.

Derek had to swallow hard past a lump. Dean was leaving. That was his life, that was the way things were. The sooner that Derek accepted this, the sooner that he would be better off. Intellectually, Derek acknowledged it, but he also knew that if there was even a prayer of a chance, he would ask Dean to stay over and over.

Dean opened his eyes and glanced over at Derek. Derek watched, amazed, as a blush crept up his neck and to his cheeks.

“You’re good.” Derek croaked out, clearing his throat.

“Thanks.” Dean said softly. He reached his hand out to Derek and Derek slipped his hand in Dean’s. “You should hear me with a guitar.”

“You play?” Derek asked, his eyes on the road.

“Yeah. A little bit.”

Derek smiled and turned back to the road.

They turned into Derek’s driveway a little while later and they saw Talia on the porch, a basket in her hands. She waved to them and approached the truck. Cora opened her door and Talia handed the basket to her along with a blanket she had tucked underneath her arm. “I expect you back here at six for dinner.”

There was a chorus of, “Yes ma’am”s before Derek put the truck into gear and headed around the house to a much wider trail then they had taken to the docks just a few short weeks earlier. It was bumpy and obviously unused by vehicles but they made it to the dilapidated treehouse shortly. Dean hopped out of the truck and reached down to his feet where he had the toolbelt on the floorboards of the truck that his father always left him. He was looking up at the treehouse with a critical eye while he put the belt on and adjusted it around his hips.

“First thing’s first.” He said. “We gotta attach new boards to the tree, for the ladder. Sam, can you grab the ladder from the back of the truck? Cora, we’re going to need the smallest precut boards back there. Derek, grab a hammer. These things look like they are going to take two of us to pull off.” Dean said.

Everyone scattered and did as Dean instructed. He and Derek made short work of the old boards nailed to the tree and dropped them into a pile away from them and their construction. After taking some more measurements, Dean began to mark where the new boards would go while Derek held on to the ladder. There was really no need, because if John Winchester ever took the time to teach Dean anything it was one of three things: 1. How to hunt 2. How to take care of the Impala 3. Construction safety. Dean understood the utter ridiculousness of that list, but that was the culmination of John Winchester’s parenting skills.

Dean nailed in the new boards, tested them out and then stepped onto them while Derek pulled the ladder cautiously out of the way, so Dean wouldn’t fall on it. The boards held and Dean hefted himself up into the actual house easily. Sam and Cora were sitting on the ground, looking up at him. Derek was directly underneath him as well.

“Derek, hand me that crowbar. Sammy, get the medium length boards ready for Derek to hand to me.” Dean said. “I’m gonna pull up some of these boards and then when I have a sturdy enough space, Derek will come up and help and Sam will hand us the boards.”

“You need me to do anything, Dean?” Cora asked.

“You have the most important job of all, honey.” Dean said seriously. He pointed at the truck. “Tunes.”

Cora grinned and jumped up. Sam followed at a slower pace and Derek repositioned the ladder underneath the treehouse. Dean walked over the questionable boards carefully, testing out which ones sounded like they could take his weight for the longest. He found a few that seemed safer than the others and pulled the others up quickly, with a practiced ease. Cora found a golden oldies station and paused while there were a few commercials on. These songs reminded her of her parents. Pretty soon Al Green’s voice filtered out of the truck and Dean smiled, despite the sweat on his forehead and the strain his shoulders and arms.

 

“ _I, I’m so in love with you_

_Whatever you want to do is all right with me_

‘ _Cause you make me feel so brand new_

_And I want to spend my life with you…”_

 

Sam laughed as he heard Dean singing along. He knew Dean thought this music was cheesy, but there were times, like now, that Dean was so given to being happy and in his element that he would sing along with just about anything. He watched as Dean stood on the few solid boards he had just nailed down and pointed his hammer at Derek and sang loudly,

 

“ _Let me say that since, baby_

_Since we’ve been together_

_Ooo…_

_Loving you forever_

_Is what I need_

_Let me be the one you come running to_

_I’ll never be untrue…”_

 

Derek laughed out loud. He was blushing and a little sweaty from holding the boards up for Dean but he was happier than he could remember. Cora had her feet propped up on the dash and was watching them, a grin wide on her face. “Get to work, Winchester!” Derek said out loud. “I can’t hold this all day.”

Dean spun around in place, coming too close to the hole he had just created and continued to sing out loud.

 

“ _Why somebody_

_Why people break up,_

_Oh turn around and make up_

_I just can’t see, you’d never do that to me_

_(Would you baby?)_

_To be around you is all I see,_

_Is what I want us to do…”_

 

Dean finished with a flourish and took the board out of Derek’s hands. He winked at him and Derek grinned. Dean pulled up a few more boards, tossed them down, nailed down a few more and then nodded. “All right Derek. Get your ass up here and help me.” He instructed.

Cora hopped out of the truck, took over Sam’s job, Sam took over Derek’s job and Dean handed the crowbar to Derek. “Take down the walls, toss the boards over there.” He nodded. “I’ll finish the floor and then we’ll get started on the walls.”

Derek nodded and began to quickly tear down the walls of the treehouse, throwing the boards down and pretty soon the light began to filter in more earnestly. A few hours later, the walls were down and Dean was almost done with the floor. He handed a toolbelt to Derek, loaded with nails and a hammer and then the other side of the board. Dean had deemed the supports still good so all they had to was nail them down into the support beams and move on to the next one. The last of the floor was quickly taken care of and Dean stood and looked at the work he had done so far. His shoulders and arms ached and he and Derek were pretty dirty. Sam and Cora looked up at them from the ground.

“Lunch?” Cora asked.

“Great idea.” Dean said.

Cora had spread the blanket out already and handed Sam a jug of water with a bottle of soap. Sam washed then handed it off to Dean who handed it off to Derek. By the time they were done, Cora was laying out sandwiches and pickles and chips and had a jug of juice ready and bottles of water laid out. The sandwiches were piled high with various ingredients and Dean felt like he could devour his in a single bite. They ate silently, the music the only noise in the woods.

“What’s next?” Sam asked as he cleaned up and put all the trash back in the basket.

“I’m going to take a nap.” Dean said and laid down on the blanket.

No one could really argue with him. He had done the majority of the work that morning, and frankly, everyone else was feeling a little sleepy as well. Cora stood and took the basket from Sam and pulled him to his feet. “We’re gonna go to the docks.” Cora said and pulled Sam after her. Sam looked over his shoulder at Dean who was sprawled out on the blanket and at Derek who was sitting next to him, leaning back on his hands and his face tipped up to the sun.

“They’ll be fine.” Cora promised. “Come on.”

Sam finally left and Derek sighed contentedly next to Dean.

“Don’t get happy.” Dean warned from next to him. “We’ve still got the walls next and then the roof and I’d like to stain the floor.”

“I’m happy now.” Derek argued and leaned down on one elbow and peered over at Dean’s face. It was hard for Derek to reconcile this boy next to him to a hunter, something that his mother had warned him about since he was a child, something that had taken his father and sister from him. Dean was good and sweet and smart. Nothing like the hunters that had had the unfortunate luck of crossing Talia Hale’s path after the death of her husband and child. Derek and Cora did not talk about the nights that there mother would come home, bloody but unharmed and smelling of death and anger.

Dean smiled even though his eyes were still closed. “Me too.” He said.

Derek leaned over and kissed him. Dean smiled through the kiss and then leaned up and captured Derek’s face in his hands. He kissed him deeply, thoroughly, and he left Derek panting and dizzy.

Dean leaned back. “I like kissing.” He declared.

“I like kissing you.” Derek replied and leaned forward again, pressing his mouth once again to Dean’s. Dean surprised him by sitting up suddenly and laying Derek down on his back, and curled his arms behind Derek’s shoulders and leaned in again. He kissed Derek slowly and Derek ran his fingers along Dean’s chin, across his cheeks. Dean licked Derek’s lips, loving the taste of him. “You’re so beautiful.” Dean whispered into Derek’s mouth and Derek could feel his heart stop.

“Don’t.” Derek whispered and leaned back.

“What’s the matter?” Dean said.

“You’re talking to me like I’m one of _them_ , like I’m someone that you can just leave behind. Don’t start to say goodbye to me, Winchester.” Derek whispered. “Don’t treat me like I’m disposable.” Derek laid a hand over Dean’s chest. “I know I’m not.” He took a deep breath, feeling the reassuring thump of Dean’s heart. “You’re not either. Don’t think that you are.”

Dean nodded, slow. “Ok.” He kissed Derek again. “But you are _really_ pretty.”

Derek laughed out loud. “You’re ok too.” He said, stroking the soft plane of Dean’s cheek. “Yeah, you’re ok.” He said softer.

Something darkened in Dean’s eyes. “This isn’t going to be easy.” Dean said softly.

Derek knew what he was talking about. He knew that Dean was dreading his father coming back and packing them up and taking them somewhere else. He worried that no matter how hard Dean and Derek would try, Dean would end up dead somewhere from a hunt and Derek would never know. Dean was already jealous of whoever would take root in Derek’s heart, a place that he felt should be reserved exclusively for him. Dean knew that whatever happened, Derek would end up in a house, with someone waiting for him. Dean knew _that_ life, the one where he got someone all to himself, was not one for a hunter. And he couldn’t do that to someone. He couldn’t go out and hunt and make someone wait on him. It wasn’t fair. And this lying, not telling Derek who and what he and Sam were was not fair either.

Dean opened his mouth again but Derek leaned up and kissed him again and again till the words escaped him and his whole world was this shaking guy in his arms. It took a moment for Dean to register that Derek was saying, “Don’t. Don’t say it. Don’t.”

Dean wasn’t sure if Derek knew what he was going to say or if Derek thought that Dean was going to start his goodbyes already.

Either way, Dean decided, it didn’t matter.

~~~

The walls and the roof went up that day and Dean decided that it would only take staining the floor the next day. They packed everything up into the truck and headed back to the Hale household as night fell around them. Talia was on the porch, curled up in a chair, a lamp burning next to her. She had a thick book in her hand and stood when she saw the truck coming up the drive. Everyone stepped out warily from the truck and headed up the steps.

“Long day?” Talia asked, laying a hand on Dean’s back.

“No, it was good.” Dean said, reveling in the last of the summer on his skin. “We got most of it done.”

“I’d love to see it when you are finished.” She said.

“Tomorrow afternoon.” Dean promised.

Talia nodded and smiled. She swatted at Cora playfully. “Get in there and get cleaned up. Dinner in half an hour.” She looked critically at Dean. “Dean, jump in the shower. You smell to high heaven. Borrow some of Derek’s clothes.” She ordered.

Dean opened his mouth to protest but Talia pinned him with a look and he shut up and followed Derek up the stairs obediently. In his room, Derek pulled some old track pants out of his drawer that were too long on him and a blue tshirt from his closet. He handed them both off to Dean and pointed him to the shower, telling him to use whatever he wanted except for Cora’s body wash because that would be _very_ weird. Dean headed off to the shower, clothes and towel clutched in his hands. He cleaned up quickly and bundled his own clothes in his hands and left them on the floor in Derek’s room before heading down.

Everyone was already sitting and eating. Dean took a seat next to Derek and Talia handed him a plate.

“Dean, does your father do much hunting?” Talia asked while she spooned some mashed potatoes on her plate.

Dean dropped his fork with a clatter on the floor. “Um, like-”

“You know, deer that sort of thing.” Talia said as Dean scrabbled for the fork on the floor. His heart was racing somewhere near his throat.

“He does.” Dean hedged.

“Do you and Sam-” Talia asked.

“Nah, we don’t go with him usually.” Dean said, finally getting a hold of his fork and then glaring at Derek who was casually holding another out to him when he sat up.

“Not much for killing?” Talia asked, propping her chin up on her hand and watching Dean.

“Sam doesn’t have the stomach for it. And I don’t like leaving Sam alone.”

Talia watched him closely and Dean saw something calculating there. “And you? Do you have the stomach for killing things?” She asked.

“ _Mom_.” Derek hissed.

“I’ve hunted before. I’m not sure I could say I enjoy it.” Dean admitted, thinking about how he had puked over the deer that Bobby had killed in front of him and Sam. “I’ve had enough of guns to last a lifetime.”

“Hm.” Talia said.

“Why do you ask?” Dean said.

Talia smiled blandly at her plate. “Sam seems comfortable with guns. _Really_ comfortable. And you don’t seem to have a problem with them either.”

“No problem with them.” Dean said, cutting the piece of turkey on his plate. “But if I could go the rest of my life without them, believe me, I would.”

“And what do you want to be when you grow up?” Cora asked from the other end of the table.

It was Dean’s turn to smile at his plate, if somewhat distantly. “A mechanic. I like cars. Dad hasn’t taught me a lot, but he has taught me cars.” Dean shrugged. “A Marine, maybe.”

“Not college?” Talia asked.

“I’m not the college type.” Dean admitted.

There were two identical groans from around the table.

“Shut up.” Sam said.

“You are too the college type.” Derek muttered.

“Sam’s the college bound one.” Dean said, trying to steer the conversation away from himself. Mostly because he knew how his life was going to end; at the claws or teeth of some monster that most people didn’t know about.

“What does Sam want to go to college for?” Talia asked, looking at Sam. Dean was thankful she let the conversation die. Derek glared at him though.

“Law.” Sam said immediately.

“Oh, to right the wrongs of the world?” Talia asked.

“Try to, anyway.” Sam said with a shrug.

“That’s a fantastic choice.” Talia said. “Maybe you can nudge your brother in the direction of a career as well.”

“Engineering.” Sam said immediately. “Dean should be an engineer. He can build the most amazing things-”

“It was just a treehouse, Sammy.” Dean corrected him softly.

“What about that labyrinth you built last year for English class? Or that 1965 Mustang last summer at Bobby’s? That lady’s roof last spring? When we were in New York and you fixed the pipes when they burst?” Sam pushed. He rarely had people on his side. It was usually just John, gruffly agreeing with Dean before fixing a stare on Sam, relaying the message that he had better get with the program and forget college.

“Oh geez.” Dean muttered. “I can fix a few things.”

“I think,” Cora said, without looking up, “What Sam is saying is that your brain is wired a very specific way. A way that would make something like mechanical engineering a very lucrative and long last career for you.”

Sam nodded.

Dean sighed.

Derek grinned.

“It’s something worth thinking about, Dean.” Talia said gently.

He plastered a smile on his face and nodded and the conversation went another way, thank god. Dean didn’t put a lot of stock or hope for the future. That was for someone else. For him, he saw his life laid out like a road. Not a very long one, but definitely a dark and exciting one. And he had come to accept that, a very long time ago.

Dinner was finally over and they all fell on the couch and turned on the tv. Cora curled up like a cat near Sam and laid her head on his shoulder. Within moments, she was fast asleep and Sam was blinking heavily at the tv. Derek laced Dean’s fingers loosely through his own and watched as Dean began to blink heavily as well. “Did your mom put sleeping meds in the food?” Dean asked.

“You worked hard today.” Derek reminded him. “In the sun. With hardly any rest. And you got up early.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Dean said. The movie started and that was the last thing Dean remembered, other than Derek’s hand in his own.

~~~

Derek woke up with his head on Dean’s chest, Dean stretched out underneath him, fast asleep. Someone had covered them with a blanket and the tv and lights were off. Derek watched Dean sleep for a long time, the rise and fall of his chest mesmerizing. He listened to the house creak around them and heard Sam, upstairs in Derek’s room, since Peter kept the guest room a mess most of the time. Cora was in her room, fast asleep. He heard Talia shuffling around and the dryer start up.

Derek returned his gaze to Dean and smiled, before burying his face in Dean’s neck and listening to the rush of blood beneath Dean’s skin, the steady beat of his heart and the wind outside.  


	11. Chapter 11

 

**[ ** Playlist ** ](https://play.spotify.com/user/ymfnm/playlist/7CqUQLTmkwj9aS4Q0uHY0a) **

_**Present** _

Derek heard the rumble of the Impala’s engine before anyone else and turned to look at the front door. The headlights flashed in the front door and Sam, across the table from him, stood. Stiles watched as Derek did, as the door swung open and Dean walked in, carrying Castiel in his arms. The shadows covered them, so it was hard to say if Castiel was breathing.

“Dean-” Sam said, starting towards him.

Dean shook his head. “He’s sleeping. He says he needs to rest as much as possible before we have to go out and storm the castle.”

Sam nodded. Dean headed up the stairs easily, to the guest room where Sam had been staying in. Derek listened as Dean settled Cas into bed, promising him that they were just downstairs if he needed Dean. Cas muttered a reply and the door closed. Everyone was looking through books when Dean came in the kitchen. His face was grim, his lips a thin line. He was looking down at the ground.

“Sam.” Dean choked out.

Sam’s head snapped up and Derek and Stiles saw it.

Dean’s eyes were an inky black, and his shoulders were a tight line. His hands were clenched in fists and he seemed to be restraining himself, but only just barely.

“Shit.” Sam said, standing and scrabbling for the bag on the counter. He pulled out three mason jars and set them side by side. Derek and Stiles stood slowly and backed away, towards the back door.

“Hey, uh, Dean?” Stiles said.

Dean turned to Stiles, but it was so hard to tell if he was looking at Stiles or at Derek who was in front of him, partially covering Stiles with his own body. “Hey, buddy, I don’t mean to point out the obvious, but, uh,-” He chuckled nervously. “That thing with Isaac earlier seems to be bothering you.” Stiles shuddered and let out a breath. He made a vague gesture towards his face.

“It’s not the same.” Dean said and there was a note of arrogance and pride there. Sam glanced up and worked faster, mixing whatever was in the three jars faster. Stiles watched him, the deliberate movements as he mixed the things into one larger jar.

Dean strode forward, towards Derek and Stiles.

“Dean.” Sam said. “Remember what you’re here for.”

Dean nodded and the smirk on his lips vanished. He shuddered and took a step back, away from Stiles and Derek. It did nothing to lessen the tension in the air. “What happened to Isaac was possession. We can fix that and save the person most of the time. It’s a three person team. I restrain the demon. Sam exorcises the demon. Castiel heals the person and the vessel.”

“What happened to you?” Derek asked, reaching for the gun on the counter next to him. He would bet all the money in the world that bullets would do nothing to Dean.

“The Mark of Cain.” Dean said flatly. Derek felt nauseous as he watched Dean roll up his sleeves and they saw it there, plain as day. It called out to the wolf in Derek, wanting to make him obey. Talia had spoken of it once, and only briefly at that. “I had to use it to kill a knight of hell. Cain gave it to me, I killed the knight, and went after someone else.” Dean kept his eyes on the Mark. “He killed me. The King of Hell brought me back, the Mark having preserved me. But I came back as a Knight.”

Sam finished whatever he was mixing and there was suddenly the overwhelming smell of flowers in the kitchen. Stiles almost choked on it. Sam shook the concoction into one of the empty mason jars and began to shake it vigorously. He then dug through the duffel bag and pulled out two more bottles.

“We’ve tried, for years actually, to get rid of it. Everything. Angels, demons, kings, witches, alphas, nothing works.” Dean shook his head. “The only thing that works is having Sam and Cas as my tether. They anchor me to this world and who I was before this.” He gestured to the Mark. “There are spells and incantations that help keep it at bay, but right now, whatever sigils they assholes are using, is killing Cas and making the Mark stronger.”

Sam circled Dean, pouring the dry mix into a circle around, encasing him. Sam grabbed one of the bottles and paused before he opened it. “Ready?”

Dean nodded, his eyes still on Derek and Stiles.

Sam began to pour the liquid out on the floor in another circle around the first circle he had made with the first mix. Dean growled and Stiles watched as a shudder ran through his frame. “More, Sam.” He instructed, his hands flexing.

Sam poured out more, making the circle thicker. Whatever they were using was thick and viscous. As the circle thickened and started to close, Dean growled and fell to his knees inside the circle. Stiles could see the beads of sweat on his forehead.

It was then that Stiles heard Sam muttering something, something similar to what he had used on Isaac to expel the demon inside of him.

As Sam closed the circle, Dean let out a hoarse yell and Stiles watched as he gouged divots into the wooden floorboards beneath him. He was shaking harder now, his breath coming in harsh gasps.

“Jesus.” Derek said. He felt Stiles clutch at the back of his shirt.

“Almost there, Dean.” Sam promised. He pulled out one more thing from the duffel, a flat case that he unrolled onto the kitchen counter. There were five silver syringes there and Sam plucked one from the roll. He rolled up his sleeve methodically, his face a mask of concentration.

“The presence of an angel, _my_ angel, keeps the worst of it at bay.” Dean said from the floor. “But when it gets bad, like this, we’ve found ways to deal.” He laid down on the floor and curled into the fetal position. He was gasping for breath. He was pale and it made the inky black eyes seem darker until Dean closed his eyes. “The first circle is to capture. Made of the holiest compounds we can find on earth. The second circle is holy oil. It’s job is to offer release.”

“What the hell are you doing?” Stiles asked as Sam stuck the needle into his arm.

“Blood of a holy man.” Sam said flatly. “Went and got myself ordained. I keep the vows, so when it comes to this,” Sam pulled the needle from his arm the syringe full of blood now, “I can do this.” Sam knelt by Dean, being very careful not to disturb the circles. “Ready?”

Dean nodded.

Sam slid a hand under Dean’s neck, tilting it to the side, so that the vein pulsing there was exposed. He slid the needle into Dean’s neck and pushed the plunger down. Dean closed his eyes and stopped breathing altogether. Sam stood and stepped out of the circle.

“Sam he’s not breathing.” Derek whispered.

“I know.” Sam said and there was no mistaking the worry in his voice.

“Sam-” Derek said.

“I know!” Sam yelled.

Dean sat up with a gasp, clutching at the floor again, but at least he was up on his hands and knees now.

“Again.” He demanded. His eyes were still black and he was still seeing in shades of gray and red.

Sam pulled another syringe from the case and repeated the procedure. Dean growled as the needle slid in again but at least this time he didn’t stop breathing. Instead, his breathing evened out and Derek relaxed minutely.

Dean stood now and nodded.

“Once more.” He said.

Sam pulled another syringe from the pack and this time, Dean offered him his neck. A violent shudder went through his body but when he opened his eyes, they were green. He nodded at Sam.

Sam pulled the second bottle off the counter and Dean knelt inside of the circles once again.

“Please no more needles.” Stiles said and Derek risked a glance behind him and saw that he was pale and looking a little ill.

“No more needles.” Dean promised. He tilted his face up to his brother and Sam opened the bottle, dipped his fingers into it and made the sign of the cross on Dean’s forehead. The skin underneath smoked. Derek winced.

“I offer you forgiveness.” Sam said softly. “Do you accept it?”

“Yes.” Dean said.

“I offer you redemption.” Sam said and repeated the sign of the cross on Dean’s chest, kneeling over a little. “Do you accept it?”

“I do.” Dean replied. Smoke rose from his chest.

Sam stepped back and the brothers regarded each other for a long moment. Neither one of them moved or spoke. They seemed to be waiting on something.

“Is it safe to break the circle?” Sam asked finally, quietly.

Derek thought it was the most ridiculous question of the night. Of course Dean would say yes, if just to get out of the prison of his own making. He watched as Dean tipped his head to the side, studying Sam. Then he turned his eyes to Stiles but dismissed him quickly. Instead, his eyes met Derek and it took every ounce of will not to look away. The black was gone, yes. But the barely restrained violence was there and his eyes looked dead.

“No.” Dean said flatly and looked away from Derek. “Get another syringe.” He instructed.

Derek felt a flush and stepped away once again. From the floor behind him, Stiles moaned.

“He can’t get through the circles.” Sam said critically, looking at Derek.

“How do you know?” Derek snapped.

“Because I can’t tell you how many times he’s tried to get through them to kill me and Cas.” Sam said. Dean tipped his head once more and Sam slid the needle in and stepped away.

“How can you do this?” Derek asked them.

Dean’s eyes settled on Derek and Derek was thankful that there was a little more humanity shining through.

“I will do whatever I have to to keep my brother safe.” Sam said.

“And I still have enough control to let him.” Dean replied.

“It’s not always like this.” Sam said and watched Dean warily. “When Cas is here, he grounds him. With Cas here, him and I can push this part out of Dean a lot more easily. We haven’t had to use the syringes in… years.”

“Once more.” Dean demanded.

Sam pulled the last syringe out of the pack and stuck his own arm once again. Derek heard Stiles slide down the wall and whimper. When Sam pulled it from Dean’s neck a moment later, Derek watched as he held himself still for a long moment, and then stretched his arms above his head and rolled his shoulders out.

“I’m good.” He finally said.

Sam watched him for a second and then nodded. He broke the circles and Dean stepped out of them. He cracked his neck and sighed. “Let’s figure this out. Because if Cas goes, I go.”

The threat fell like a weight in the silent room.

From the ground behind Derek, Stiles said, “Help me up so we can figure out what is going on.”

Derek turned and offered him a hand up.

Everyone trooped into the living room.

~~~

Dean stood over the map and studied it. He traced his fingers over a few of the spots that Stiles and Derek had suggested might be the most likely place to keep four teenagers. Places where they couldn’t get to easily, places of supernatural power, places that were not generally well known. Sam watched him.

Sam was worried. He didn’t think that he would turn against any of them. But he was worried that when they let him go after the bad guys, it wouldn’t end well for them. He knew it would end bloody for them.

“How you feelin’?” Sam asked as he cleaned his gun. Stiles was slumped over a book on the kitchen table. Sam envied him that small rest.

Dean glared at the map for a second longer before looking up at Sam. His eyes were still green, so there was that much. But Sam had seen him fighting for control more than once in the last hour or so. Maybe letting him go at some bad guys would take the edge off.

“I’ll make it.” Dean said softly.

Sam nodded.

Dean sat at the table with a thump and scrubbed his face and hair with his head, resulting in making him look like a wild and dangerous peacock with feathers sticking up every which way. If Sam wasn’t fully aware that he could kill them all before any of them could defend themselves, he would laugh. As it was, he snorted when he looked at his big brother.

“Sammy, what are we doing?” Dean asked with a groan. “How big is this forest? And even if we can find them in one of the seven places Derek and Stile think they _might_ be, what are we gonna do? How are we gonna get them out?”

Sam had been tossing the same questions around in his head, each idea more outrageous than the last. His latest idea involved a helicopter. He heard the toilet flush and the water turn on in the bathroom down the hall. Derek came out and headed back to the living room.

“I don’t know, Dean. But when do we ever know?” Sam asked.

“There are four powerful people out there, people that when sacrificed could cause a huge rift.” Dean went on, as though Sam hadn’t said anything. Derek joined them and sat in the chair across from Dean, Sam at the end in between them. “And that’s just looking at objectively.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, encouraging Dean. When he rambled like this, let his mind wander free, was when he came up with his best and most dangerous ideas.

“They are children, Sam. Twenty, twenty one years old. Held captive. Tortured, probably. Hungry. Tired. Scott is the alpha of the pack. He’s the glue that holds them together. He commands them. To even have the power he has, at his age, would ruin people twice his age. Then there’s the girl that can find death-”

“Lydia.” Derek murmured.

“Lydia. For the most part, she’s human. She’s smart. She can’t control all the things she can hear. Have you ever met a banshee?”

Sam shook his head.

“They end up in the nut house ninety nine percent of the time. The self control she must have-” Dean shook his head. “And the kitsune? I don’t even know what she can do.”

“Kira can control electrical currents.” Derek said.

Dean gestured at Derek. Sam nodded.

“And the werecoyote that has been alone in the woods for how many years? And now she’s locked up in a dark cage. Can she control her shift anymore?” Dean shrugged. “But more than that, they are a pack of elements. That let loose-” Dean shrugged. “But that’s objectively, like I said.”

“What’s subjective?” Sam said.

“They’re _kids_. Scott is Stiles best friend. Melissa’s son. Malia is Derek’s cousin. Lydia, she has parents, maybe siblings, I don’t know. Kira, same deal.” Dean growled. “They’re _kids_.”

Sam nodded and leaned over the table for a bottle of water. “What are you thinking?”

Dean leaned back against the couch and looked from Derek, who was watching him and Sam steadily, to his brother. “I think we should go in on the offensive, when we find out where they are.”

“Go in swinging.” Sam said.

Dean nodded.

“Specifically, let _you_ go in swinging.”

Dean hesitated and nodded again. “With Cas on the fritz, I think our best bet would to let me go in first. Then Derek. Then you.”

“What about Stiles?” Derek asked.

Dean and Sam exchanged a look. They were thinking the same thing.

“I think we should hide him.” Sam said softly.

Derek blinked and looked over at Dean. Dean nodded. “He’s the last piece of the puzzle, Derek. If we go in and the fight goes sideways and they get him, then we aren’t just screwed, we are royally fucked.”

“I’m not disagreeing with you guys.” Derek said slowly. “I see your point and kind of agree with you.”

“Kind of.” Sam said.

“He won’t.” Derek said with a sigh. “He’s the only full on human in our pack. Stiles doesn’t like to be defenseless. So he started teaching himself some stuff.”

“Stuff.” Sam said.

“Yeah.” Derek said. “He likes to put on this big act that he’s just this tiny little human, can’t do much, but he’s- he’s hurt people before. I’m not even sure at this point how powerful he is.”

“Powerful.” Sam said.

“Quit repeating what I say.” Derek said. “He’s learned how to fight.”

“Learning how to fight is one thing, Derek.” Dean interrupted. “But this is serious business-”

“He rescued Lydia and Kira from a vamp nest with only a stiletto.” Derek said. “Scott and I got there, and there were just _pieces_ of them laying around. Lydia and Kira refuse to talk about it to this day.”

Sam raised his eyebrows.

“He can fight, but he knows how to use magic too. I don’t know how much, because he keeps most of it hidden away in case he needs to surprise someone.” Derek said. “He keeps the helpless facade up, but I know he can handle himself.”

Sam and Dean turned to each other.

“No.” Dean said immediately.

“With Cas not a hundred percent, I don’t think we can push aside _any_ help we can get.” Sam argued.

“He’s the one thing they need, Sammy.” Dean said. “I can’t protect him _and_ Cas.”

“I’ll be there too.” Derek interjected.

Sam chewed on his lower lip and looked down at his hands. “He’ll be with us instead of hidden away. We’ll know where he is at all times. We can keep an eye on him. If it goes sideways, I’ll get us out of there.”

“It’s risking too much.” Dean said, shaking his head.

“Do I get a say in this?” Derek said.

“No.” Sam and Dean said at the same time.

“Let’s see what he can do, then. If it’s not up to par, then we’ll leave him and you won’t get any argument out of me.” Sam offered.

Dean looked down at his hands and nodded. “Fine.” He tipped his head at Stiles and looked at Derek. “Wake him, will you?” He said.

Derek went stood and turned. He paused and looked back over his shoulder. He turned to face them once more. “If this goes sideways, like you say, you have to get him out.”

“I just said I would.” Sam said.

“You have to promise me.” Derek insisted. His hands were clenching and unclenching at his sides. Dean realized what he was asking Sam. Not to keep Stiles safe just for having interrupted the spell but because if Derek died, at least it would be with the knowledge that Stiles was safe.

Sam held Derek’s gaze for a moment and nodded. “I promise.” He said softly.

Derek turned once more and then he heard Dean clear his throat. “Derek, are you good with this?” He asked.

Derek looked from Stiles to Dean. Stiles was still slumped over the book he had been reading. The truth was bitter and sharp on Derek’s tongue. “I still believe in you, Dean. And if you guys can pull this off,” He sighed and gestured helplessly, “I can believe in that. You just have to-” Derek paused to collect himself. He watched Stiles for a long moment. Sam and Dean watched him silently. “You just have to keep him safe, ok?”

Sam bowed his head but Dean nodded. It wasn’t so much to ask, not really. “Ok.” Dean said.

Derek went over to Stiles and placed a hand on his shoulder. Stiles blinked himself awake and looked up at Derek. “What?” He asked, rubbing his face. “Are we ready? Did you find them?”

“No.” Derek said. “The Winchesters want to leave you here while we get them.”

“The Winchesters can blow it out their-” Stiles started.

“But I told them that you can fight, that you can take care of yourself.” Derek interrupted. “They want to see what you can do.”

“They want a _show_? _Now_?” Stiles said.

“You know what I mean.” Derek said.

Stiles held Derek’s eyes for a long moment and nodded slowly. “All right. Give me a second.” He said. He stood, glared at Sam and Dean and made his way upstairs. They heard him open some drawers and came back downstairs. He stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked from Sam and Dean. “Ready?” He asked them. His hands were empty and Dean had to wonder what it was that he had gone upstairs for.

They stood and everyone followed Stiles into the backyard. He was doing some weird thing with his hand, like he was counting off something with his fingers. Otherwise he was still, watching Derek at the other end of the yard. “Ready?” Derek asked.

“No.” Dean said, stepping in.

“You aren’t fighting him.” Derek said immediately. He knew that Dean’s struggle for control was real and if he lost it out there with Stiles-

Dean snorted. “Uh, no. Sam is.”

Sam looked surprised for a second, but recovered remarkably well. He shrugged and then pulled off his jacket. He laid his gun down carefully on top of it and Dean made his way over to Sam and picked it up and tucked it into the back of his own jeans. He picked up Sam’s jacket and shook it out. “Go easy on him.” Dean muttered.

“I will.” Sam said.

“What are they saying?” Stiles asked Derek softly. He was counting off with his fingers again. Derek didn’t know if it was a nervous gesture or if he was getting himself ready.

“Dean’s asking Sam to take it easy on you.” Derek said. He looked over at them. “Don’t hold back.” He instructed Stiles.

Stiles raised his eyes to Derek. “I’m not gonna hurt Sam just because-”

“No, it’s not that.” Derek said. “They’ll leave you behind. If you don’t want to be left behind, don’t hold hold back. Got it?” Derek said. After a moment, Stiles nodded. “Dean told Sam to go easy on you, but he can be a dirty fighter. Don’t be afraid to hurt him. Don’t kill him though.” Derek ordered.

Stiles snorted.

“What?”

“This is like my _Rocky_ moment. You are my Apollo Creed.”

“You are an idiot.” Derek said.

“Yeah, but I’m your idiot.” Stiles pointed out. He shook his shoulders out and bounced from one foot to the other.

“What are you doing?” Derek asked.

“ _Rocky_ moment, Derek!” He said.

“You’re going to die.” Derek said helplessly. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and then reached out for Stiles. He pulled him close for a kiss and Stiles stopped bouncing, finally. “Don’t die.” He advised when he pulled back.

Stiles frowned and nodded.

Derek stepped back and Dean did the same.

“Ready?” Sam asked.

“Let’s go, Obi Wan.” Stiles challenged.

Sam nodded but didn’t move. He stood at his end of the yard, hands loose by his sides. He watched Stiles carefully. Stiles didn’t know what to do. Any other fight, the people or monsters charged him, looking for blood. So Stiles stood there, uncertain for a long moment.

Dean sighed. “Guys, we don’t have all night for you to stand here.”

“Technically, it’s day.” Stiles said. He strode to the middle of the yard and gestured at Sam. “Come on, big guy.” He said. There was the slightest waver in his voice and he had to remind himself that this guy liked him and wouldn’t kill him. Probably.

Sam sighed and stepped forward. Stiles was bouncing from foot to foot again. “What are you doing?” Sam asked.

“ _Rocky_!” Stiles said.

Derek groaned.

Then Stiles lashed out with his right foot and caught Sam square in the oblique, causing him to wince. But it felt like kicking an oak tree. Stiles had his attention now. Sam watched him warily but didn’t put his hands up, not yet at least. Stiles hooked with his right, then his left, and Sam blocked them easily. He pushed Stiles back with one hand and Stiles had to admit, he was a bit unnerved at how _fast_ Sam was.

“Dean, we really just need to tie him up and leave him-” Sam said over his shoulder.

The thought of watching Derek walk away into god knows what set Stiles off like nothing else and he charged Sam who grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and the waist of his jeans and threw him over his shoulder. “Do you see what I mean?” Sam asked, nodding at Stiles who was laying on his back in the grass, panting.

Derek watched, his head cocked to the side. He had taught Stiles better than this. Scott had taught Stiles better than this. He knew that Stiles knew better than this. Stiles looked like a hyperactive three year old trying to beat up his much bigger father. Derek remained silent though, and didn’t offer any words of advice or encouragement. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and watched patiently.

Stiles jumped to his feet and went after Sam again. He punched, he kicked and Derek _knew_ he was holding back.

Stiles was _learning_ Sam.

Derek barely blinked at the revelation, trying not to give away Stiles’ plan. He watched patiently until finally Stiles stepped away from Sam. He began to count off on his fingers and he got to seven and walked closer to Sam.

In a swift series of kicks and swift jabs, he had Sam backing away from, holding his arms up finally to fend off some of the blows.

“Fuck.” Sam said and finally swung back.

Stiles was prepared and Derek saw that look on his face when he had to fight. Part concentration and part _Please don’t hit me._ Sam did land a blow though, right to Stiles ribs. It sent him skidding back and shaking his head like he was unprepared for it. He huffed out a breath and went back in. Sam watched him warily now, no longer afraid to fight back. Stiles stepped in again and there was a flash of silver and Sam gasped and pulled back. His forearm was bleeding and now he looked angry. Derek considered stepping in and stopping them but decided against it.

Stiles had his stiletto in his hand and was panting heavily. He grinned at Sam.

Sam glowered. He lowered his head and muttered something and the stiletto disappeared from Stiles’ hand.

“Hey!” He shouted. “Spells are cheating!”

“Nothing is cheating when you are going up against a group much bigger than us.” Dean said.

“Fine.” Stiles muttered. He shook his hands out and began to tick off his fingers and again. Sam smirked at him but Dean watched him closely. He was doing something and Dean could feel it pricking at the base of brain, in the tips of his fingers. Stiles lowered his head and looked up at Sam. Except Sam wasn’t seeing Stiles or Dean or even Derek anymore.

_He was in a cabin, alone. It was dark and the wind was blowing at the old house, making it creak and moan._

“ _Dean?” He called out._

In the backyard, Dean raised his eyebrows and looked over at Stiles. Stiles kept all of his attention on Sam.

“What is he doing?” He asked Derek.

“I don’t know.” Derek answered honestly. He watched Sam clutch his head and fall to his knees. “This is new.”

“ _Dean!” Sam yelled. The door swung open and there was only darkness with the impression of trees just beyond it. He waited to see what was coming through but he couldn’t see anything beyond the vague shapes of the trees and the darkness._

_A hand fell through the doorway and Sam twitched back. He reached for his gun but it wasn’t there. The hand pulled itself from the door and another followed it. Arms. Shoulders. The top of a familiar head._

“ _Dean?” He whispered._

_But it was all wrong. The head was wrapped it dirty old gauze, with only a mouth full of too many sharp teeth grinning from up at him._

“ _No.” Sam said._

“What is he doing?” Dean demanded again, stepping closer to Sam who had fallen to his knees. Derek opened his mouth to tell Stiles to quit, but Stiles answered before he could

“I’m giving him my nightmare.” Stiles said through gritted teeth.

_The thing pulled itself up onto his knees and it was Dean. The hands began to unwrap the gauze from its face, in short jerky movements. Sam felt like he was going to vomit. The mouth opened up and laughed. “Come on, Sammy. This is what we know is underneath all the spells and all the magic.”_

_The gauze fell in a heap in front of it and Sam regretted looking up. It was Dean, almost. His nose was torn away, his cheeks were slashed open, gaping wounds festering with maggots. The mouth with too many teeth continued to grin at him, wider than before. But the worst of it all was that the eyes were still Dean’s._

In the backyard, Dean watched his brother fall to his knees and frowned.

“That’s enough, Stiles.” He said quietly.

Stiles nodded and stepped forward to Sam. He muttered a few words and touched Sam’s temple. Sam’s eyes snapped back to reality and Dean opened his mouth to warn Stiles away but Sam got there first. He punched Stiles in the gut, as hard as he could and Stiles fell back and then fell on his ass gasping for air. Derek stepped forward, a growl in his chest already but Stiles held his hand up and there was a silent motion and Derek and Sam were thrown back off their feet.

Dean stood where he was, hand on his chin.

Stiles fell on his back and rolled his head over to look at him. “Did I pass the test, Master Yoda?” He asked.

Dean pinned him with a look. “If I’m anyone, I’m Master Windu. And yeah.” Dean said and strode over to Stiles. “You’ll do.” He pulled Stiles to his feet.

“That spell was meant for all of you.” Stiles said as he watched Sam and Derek pull themselves up off the ground.

“Spells don’t work on the Mark.” Dean said.

“Ah.” Stiles said and nodded. He warily watched Sam climb to his feet. “We ok?” He asked.

“Don’t do that again.” Sam said flatly. Stiles didn’t think they were ok.

Stiles nodded. “I won’t.”

“Let’s go find these guys.” Dean muttered and headed inside.

~~~

“The church.” Derek said, tapping the map. “It’s gotta be the church.”

Stiles stopped and wondered why he hadn’t thought of it himself earlier. He nodded slowly. “The catacombs beneath would give the perfect spot to hide everyone.” Stiles agreed.

“The cells beneath it. They are made of iron and granite.” Derek said. “Put up a few more wards and you got yourself an inescapable cell even for Scott.”

“Is-is no one concerned that we don’t even know who we are after?” Sam asked. His face looked pained but he refused to talk about what he had seen in the nightmare Stiles had given him. “How are we going to kill it if we don’t know what it is?” He said, looking around at them.

“Fire and decapitation work for most things.” Dean said. “It even put Abbadon out for a while.”

Stiles inwardly flinched at the name.

“Fire?” Derek asked.

Dean nodded but he was looking down at the map and didn’t see the look on Derek’s face. Stiles reached a hand out and rubbed Derek’s back.

Dean glanced up and caught the look on Derek’s face. “Problem?” He said.

Derek shook his head.

“If there is something you need to say, say it. We can’t go out there with shit hanging over our heads.” Dean pointed out. Even to Sam, who was still half sick from the nightmare earlier, thought that was the most absurd choice of words he had ever heard.

But Derek just pressed his lips together and shook his head.

Dean sighed. He turned to Stiles. “You said you got a Jeep?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, because I don’t think my car will make it out there.” Dean said his eyes tracing over the map. This was a side of Dean that Derek hadn’t seen before. He was all business, taking charge and used to his words being followed without question. The kind of loyalty he commanded was frightening. “I’ll go first, then Derek. Stiles you follow, then Sam.”

“Shouldn’t I go last?” Stiles asked. “You guys have way more experience with storming the castle.”

“That may be true but you are still way more valuable than any of us. I can’t die, Derek can heal. It’s our best bet. And those cowards will attack from behind.” He looked down at the stiletto that Stiles had laid on the table when they had sat down. “How many more of those have you got.” He asked.

“Ten or twelve.” Stiles said.

“Bring them all.” Dean ordered. He stared at Stiles a long time. Long enough for Derek to shift in his seat and start glowering again. “That weird Professor X thing you did on Sam, how many people would that work on?” Sam shuddered at the memory. “I don’t know. I think it loses its effectiveness the more people I put in a nightmare.”

Dean nodded, it made sense. “I would save it for emergencies.” He advised.

“What about Castiel?” Derek asked.

“He’s not coming.” Dean said flatly.

“The hell I’m not.” Castiel growled from the door.

“Cas-” Dean started.

“Stow your shit.” Cas said in a voice that said he wasn’t going to hear any argument. Derek raised his eyebrows. He didn’t imagine many people talked to Dean like that and lived.

They glared at each other for a long time until Dean sighed. “Cas, you won’t make it out there.”

“Dean, between the two of us which one of us has been an angel since before the dawn of time and is more than aware of what I can and _cannot_ handle?” Cas snapped and stood up straight, his eyes glowing a faint blue.

Dean held his hands up. “Fine. You want to be part of the rescue squad, come along. But you keep your ass by my side until it’s over. Are we clear?”

“Is my ass ever anywhere else?” Cas snapped back and Stiles choked on his water.

Even Sam smirked at that one.

~~~

Upstairs in Stiles bedroom, Derek watched as Stiles strapped on the holster Dean had loaned him earlier and from a trunk from beneath his bed he pulled out two more that strapped over his forearms and wrists.

Stiles flexed his wrists underneath them and listened to the leather creak. “I haven’t used them very often.” He scraped at some dried blood there. “Since the vampire nest with Lydia and Kira.”

That had been more than a year ago, Derek recalled.

“Are you ok with this?” Stiles asked, looking up at Derek from beneath his eyelashes where Derek sat on the bed.

“No. Fuck no.” Derek said. He hung his head and studied his hands. There were scars on his knuckles and his forearms that he got from the monsters him and the pack had fought off in the past several years. “But I also know that asking you to stay isn’t fair. If it were reversed, I would have to go too.”

Stiles nodded but didn’t say anything else as he slid two blades into each of the forearm holster. They were wickedly sharp and Derek could smell the silver across the room.

“Thank you for understanding that.” Stiles said quietly. He sat down next to Derek and reached for his hand. Derek let out a shaky breath as Stiles’ fingers slid into his. Derek could only nod.

After a long moment Derek said, “I promised your dad I would keep you safe.”

“I know.” Stiles whispered. His fingers tightened on Derek’s.

“But if you go-” Derek had to stop. There was a lump in his throat that hadn’t been there a second ago. “If you go with us, I’m not sure I can keep you safe.”

“I can take care of myself.” Stiles said with a note of false bravado as he puffed up his chest.

Derek felt his lips quirk up in a soft smile. “Yeah I know that. I saw what you did to Sam.” He cleared his throat. Speaking had become a monumental task suddenly. “Thing is, if I walk out of that forest without you alive and make some stupid ass remark, I don’t-” Derek stopped. “I don’t want to walk out of there at all.”

“Don’t say that.” Stiles said softly. “Don’t.”

“I can’t be here without you Stiles.” Derek said.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me. To _us_.” Stile said. “We’ve got each other and then there are the other three.”

Derek nodded. “You have to make it out safe.”

Stiles stared at him. “Don’t do that.” He whispered harshly. He stood. “Don’t act like you aren’t coming out of there with the rest of us. Because if you don’t come back out of there, that’s it. I’m going to find you and kick your werewolf ass.”

“Stiles-” Derek said and reached for him. Stiles slapped his hands away.

“You promise me like you promised my dad.” Stiles said. “You promise me that you are going to fight to come back.”

Derek stared at him for a moment and then nodded minutely. “Ok.” He said softly, lying. He nodded and looked up at him.

“You are a horrible fucking liar.” Stiles said helplessly and dropped down to his knees in front of Derek. Derek leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Stiles.

“This isn’t it.” Stiles insisted, whispering now. “It’s _not_ , Derek.”

Derek nodded.

“So we should make plans. For when the Winchesters leave. You’re going to take me out the following weekend, yeah?” He said fervently.

Derek nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak.

“You’re going to get a cabin.” Stiles instructed and grabbed Derek’s hands. “And we’re going to take the Jeep up there and it’s just going to be me and you for a full weekend. We’re going to roast marshmallows and you’re going to kiss me. Ok?”

Derek nodded.

“You’re going to kiss me,ok?” Stiles said again.

Derek nodded and Stiles grabbed his shoulders.

“Kiss me.” Stiles said, desperate.

Derek grabbed Stiles shoulders and pulled him close. He kissed him like he was the only thing in the world, like he was the only thing that could ever matter, like he was the home that Derek had lost in the fire so long ago.

~~~

Downstairs, Dean was loading a magazine. He dropped it into his pocket and threw two more to Sam. Cas sat on the couch and even Sam was glancing over at him.

“How you feeling?” Sam asked. He slid a machete into a holster and glanced up at Cas who was looking out the window, listless.

“I’m here.” Cas said hollowly. “I will be better when Dean rips the head off whatever demon is using these sigils.”

“That’s my boy.” Dean said. He caught the glance Sam sent him. “What? He’s grumpy when he’s not full on angel.”

Cas sighed and pulled his angel blade closer to him and looked out the window.

“Are we ready?” Cas asked loudly.

Sam turned to see Derek and Stiles descend down the stairs. Stiles tossed the keys to his Jeep to Dean who caught them easily. “We’ll direct you where to go.”

Dean nodded, grabbed his bag and nodded to the door. “Let’s go.”

~~~

Derek and Dean sat up front, Derek giving terse directions.

“Not to rain on everyone’s parade,” Stiles said from the backseat, where he sat between Cas and Sam, “But what are we going to do if they aren’t here?”

They drove up to a clearing and the church was lit up from the inside out. A couple people milled around outside and Derek sniffed the air delicately. “Werewolves. One pack.” He took a deeper breath. “There’s a lot of them.”

“How many?” Sam asked.

“At least forty.” Derek said.

“There is forty three.” Cas corrected.

“The demon is in there.” Dean added helpfully.

“So looks like we found the right spot.” Stiles said.

Sam and Dean nodded.

They opened the doors and they all stepped out. Sam saw Dean catch Cas, who shook him off immediately. “I’ll be fine.” He promised Dean.

Dean didn’t believe him but had stopped trying to argue with him. He just nodded and they made their way to the church.

“You got your invitation?” One of the guys drawled from the front as Dean approached him.

“They weren’t invited.” A brunette girl said from the side. She was as pale as the moonlight and seethed at Derek. “This one is a Hale.”

The guy in front of Dean started to shift but Dean beat him to it, stabbing him upwards through the chin. Two more went for Dean and the brunette launched herself at Derek. Stiles watched as Derek grabbed her around the neck and twisted fiercely and there was the distinct sound of bones breaking. When Stiles risked a glance to Dean, he was holding one guy by the chin and making him look at him. The guy was gasping for breath but died before Stiles could figure out what Dean was doing.

Cas was looking up at the church. It was dilapidated and falling apart. The paint was peeling and it might have once been a sweet place of worship, but it Cas could feel that it had been deconsecrated a long time ago. The evil was pulsing through it with a sickening heartbeat; wet and cold.

“This will prove to be far more unpleasant than we have previously anticipated.” Cas said gravely. He stood up straighter and reassured himself with the cold feel of his Grace manifested in his hand and Dean’s silhouette in front of him. “We should proceed quickly.” He said.

Dean turned his head at Cas’ words and when he gave the go ahead, Dean went first. Cas followed, then Dean. Stiles and Sam exchanged a look. “Dean is basically a hungry t-rex that you barely have restrained on a leash.” Stiles accused.

Sam pressed his lips in a thin line. There was more truth to that than he would like to admit.

They all gathered on the crumbling stoop of the church and paused. Dean paused to look around at everyone. “Ready?” He asked.

There were only grimaces and tight nods.

Dean rolled his shoulders, leaned forward and pulled the church doors open.

~~~

Cas had seen the destruction of his Father’s houses before but it was never anything less than devastating every time. Pews were turned over and pages of the bible littered the floor. Harsh lamps lit up parts of the interior and some moonlight filtered in but most of it was in shadows. The crucifix that normally stood at the end of the opposite side of the room was torn apart and scattered around the floor.

Cas heaved a sigh.

“St. Germaine’s Holy Catholic Church.” Cas muttered, trailing his fingers along the wall. “Patron saint of the abused and abandoned.”

“Cheery.” Derek remarked, his eyes falling on the shadows, but there was no one there.

“Here they come.” Dean said softly. A door closed behind the altar and people streamed out of the back of the church. They spread out and it was like Cas said, there were close to forty in number. He imagined that the rest were downstairs in the catacombs with the rest of the hostages. Dean didn’t know about their chances of escape if left unattended but he wouldn’t risk that chance if he were the captor.

The people in front of him were silent but they lined up in a loose formation in front of the altar and along the walls. Behind them, when they had all finally settled into their spots, a man stepped forward.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Stiles muttered. “Can’t Dean just kill him?”

“Stiles.” Deucalion said in that low voice. “So wonderful to see you. Scott and I have been speaking about you.”

“Bullshit.” Stiles muttered.

“Ah, the lovely Winchester boys.” Deucalion said, without even acknowledging what Stiles had said.

Dean spread his arms wide and bowed. “At your service.”

“Sam.” The man said, turning and patently ignoring Derek. “I’ve heard rumors about you. Everyone thought you were a goner when Ruby got burnt up. But look at you now.” He gestured with his hands at Sam who watched him warily without replying. “All big and strong.” He leaned over to a shockingly blonde woman at his right. “In more ways than one if the rumors are to be believed.”

She smirked.

“But really,” Deucalion said and turned back to Dean, “You are the prize to be had, my boy. Righteous Man, Knight of Hell, personal lover of angels… What a pretty, pretty package you are.”

“Well.” Dean said with a false note of modesty in his voice. “Who am I to argue?”

“And speaking of angels.” Deucalion turned to Cas who watched him with more wariness than even Sam. “Castiel. Angel of kings. Favored day is Thursday. Warrior. Leader. What are you doing down here in the dirt?”

“I will be eviscerating you.” Cas said flatly.

Deucalion clucked his tongue. “Manners, Castiel.”

“Well, hey, now that introductions are all taken care of, how about you give us the kiddos back and we’ll be on our way?” Dean asked, with more courtesy than Stiles thought he was capable of.

Deucalion looked at Dean for a long moment. “No can do, sorry.” Then he turned to Derek. “This one owes me.”

“He doesn’t owe you shit.” Dean growled before Derek could say anything. Sam could feel Dean starting to lose control. Stiles was astounded that Dean had said anything in Derek’s defense.

Deucalion raised a finger. “I beg to differ. He left me alone, an omega. No pack, no family. He took the alpha from me.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Blah, blah, blah. Poor me. We’re not here to hear the sob story.”

“You’re here to get your friends.” Deucalion said, rubbing his chin.

“Not my friends.” Dean jerked his chin in Derek and Stiles’ direction. “Their friends. I just can’t stand assholes.” He grinned and blinked and for a second the inky black had returned. “I like to mess up their game plans.” He shrugged and the green came back to him. “It’s a hobby.”

Deucalion rubbed his chin ponderously. “A dangerous hobby.”

Dean smiled.

“Let’s make a deal, shall we?” Deucalion said.

“No.” Castiel said flatly. Stiles could see his hands shaking from where he stood. “No deals.”

“Well, then. The old fashioned way it is.” Deucalion said and stepped back onto the altar. He was making a mockery of it and Castiel felt a cold sort of fury at the back of his neck. He gripped the angel blade tightly and when Deucalion gestured, all hell broke loose.

Derek began to shift but he left it half finished, his claws out and teeth dangerous. He swiped at the nearest man that came towards him and felt the satisfactory pull of his claws finding the man’s stomach. For good measure, he dug in just a little deeper and _pulled_.

Stiles tried to get closer to Derek but three people cut him off and snarled at him, revealing teeth that were too pointy for his taste.

“Well, shit.” Stiles said and felt the knives slide into his palms. The man lunged at him, used to the scare tactics of his teeth and claws but Stiles slept with a former alpha, teeth and claws meant little to him now. He slashed at the man’s throat, and when he missed, as he thought he would, he changed his grip on the knife and slashed downward, finding the narrow spot behind the man’s collarbone.

A woman lunged next at him and he jerked the knife out, hoping the man would bleed to death before he got a chance to heal. He turned to the woman who was watching him steadily and he waited for his chance, his head bowed, a smirk on his lips. “Come on sweet cheeks.” He said mockingly.

She did and as she ran towards him, he switched his grip once more on the blade and ran back. He slammed the knife as far in as his and her momentum would carry them and then jerked it upwards, toward her ribcage. He jerked this knife out again and turned to Sam.

Sam stood calmly in the middle of a circle of five men and women. Stiles was worried for a second until he heard Sam muttering something and the five collapsed at his feet, writhing in pain. Stiles had to pause and wonder what kind of ordained man could carry power like that. Sam pulled out a silver knife of his own and methodically began slitting throats.

Stiles had to turn from that.

Dean had almost made his way to the altar and was laughing as three men approached him, “Come on, guys. You don’t wanna fight me.” He gestured behind him, to the bodies and the body parts he had left in his wake. “I mean, look at your friends.”

One hesitated and looked to the other two. The other two did nothing but glare at Dean.

Dean shrugged. They charged.

Sam laid a hand on Stiles shoulder and gestured forward towards Cas and Derek who were surrounded. “They need help-” Sam started to say, but was abruptly cut off by eight people. Sam pushed Stiles behind him. “Watch my back.” He ordered. Stiles didn’t understand, since they were currently being backed into a corner.

He opened his mouth to point this out to Sam but his eyes landed on Derek. Stiles watched in horror as a guy in a vest grabbed Derek from the back as four other people advanced on him and then Derek was gone underneath a pile of bodies. Stiles could hear the blows landing on his body though.

“Derek!” Cas called out and jerked his blade out of a kid that couldn’t have been any older than Stiles. Cas turned to Derek but was cut off by a cold hand and an even colder blade at his neck.

“Where did you get that?” Cas demanded.

“There was once this little angel boy. Samandriel, his name was. Left this just- lying around.” Deucalion said thoughtfully. He pushed a little harder and Cas took a step back. “Back, angel boy.” Deucalion said. “And call them off.”

“No.” Castiel said.

Deucalion sighed. “Figures.” He pushed until Castiel was on the altar, underneath the place where the crucifix was. “Winchester!” Deucalion called out.

Everyone froze.

The ones surrounding Stiles and Sam stopped their advance but did not leave their semicircle.

“That’s one thing you don’t want to do.” Dean said, his voice low with warning.

Stiles glanced over in horror at Derek as he saw the guy in the vest lift Derek to his feet and pull his hair back to expose his throat.

Deucalion was smiling broadly at Dean now and he turned back to Cas. Cas was too still and Stiles could see his chest heaving. He was too pale.

Deucalion punched him, again and again. Dean screamed and threw the guy off in front of him, just as Cas folded to the ground. Deucalion reached down, pulled him up and placed the blade to his throat once more.

“Stand down.” He ordered.

“You fucking coward.” Dean spat, but he stopped. Cas was too still, slumped in Deucalion’s hands. Deucalion reached into his pocket and pulled something out. It was flat and black, about the size of a domino. It pulsed like a heartbeat with sickly green light. “You were wrong. They aren’t sigils. This is a rune. Physical manifestation of a sigil. Portable. More powerful.” Dean fell to his knees as Deucalion clutched it in his hands. “This one right here? Controls the demons. Anything demon-y here, I can control with a flick of my wrist. For instance.” He said and turned it over in his hands. Stiles watched as Dean stood and then watched, in even more disgust, as Dean reached for a long forgotten knife and plunged it into his own stomach.

“Dean!” Sam said. He was helpless though, as the people around him closed tightly once more.

“I can concentrate my will here. I can make Dean want to take up the knife against his own brother. His own angel.”

Dean cast the knife aside. Sam couldn’t tell if it was him or Deucalion. “No.” Dean growled.

Deucalion smirked. “Eventually, you’ll say yes.”

Sam shuffled back so that Stiles was pressed into the corner of the room. “The nightmare thing.” He muttered.

“It’s too much. There’s too many people.” He paused. “There is one other thing.”

Sam looked at the people surrounding them. “Anything.” He said.

Stiles nodded. “Cover me.” Sam stepped forward, giving Stiles room in the corner. Stiles began muttering. Deucalion hovered over Dean with the rune as Dean writhed on the ground.

Sam risked a glance at Derek. He was shifting further into the wolf, but it was clearly against his own will. It was the rune in Deucalion’s hand at work.

Sam was so busy concentrating on everything around him that when the people around him started to scream, he startled back and almost tripped over Stiles. The exit was clear as day, just steps to his right. Dean was on his hands and knees, fighting whatever it was the Deucalion was using on him. Cas was on the ground, unmoving. Sam’s eyes finally landed on Derek. He saw them flash blue.

“Sam, you _promised_.” Derek said, his voice desperate and harsh. Sam looked around. He had no other option. He took Stiles by the wrist and jerked him to exit.

“No, what are you doing?” He said, trying to pull away. Sam didn’t reply, only tightened his hold and jerked at Stiles harder. Stiles moved a bare few inches before he dug his heels in.

“Sammy, go!” Dean said, his voice just as raw as Derek’s. “Go!”

“No.” Stiles whispered. “No! We have to help them!”

“We can’t.” Sam said and pulled at him harder.

“Sam!” Derek screamed now and one of the men punched him in the mouth, hard enough to daze him.

Deucalion spared them a look. “Don’t go far, Sammy.” He nodded at Stiles. “We’ll be coming for him.”

Sam reached forward and looped an arm around Stiles waist. He pulled harder, taking him off his feet for a second.

“Derek!” Stiles screamed. “No, no Sam. No.” Stiles begged, his eyes glued on Derek. “No, don’t let them take him.”

“We have to-” Sam’s voice caught. “We have to let them go.”

“No.” Stiles said, fighting harder now. Sam dropped his gun and his knives to fend off Stiles’ wild blows. “Derek!” He screamed, his voice raw.

Dean looked up at Sam as Sam pushed his way through the doors. “Sammy, run.” He said and then everything went inky black.

~~~

Sam managed to shove Stiles into the Jeep and turn them away from the church. He drove wildly unsure of where they were going. Eventually he found a road that was too silent, too dark for his liking. He drove for another twenty minutes while Stiles wept next to him.

Finally, the calm broke and Sam pulled over. He got out of the Jeep and walked into the forest that was still surrounding them. He leaned into a tree and retched. He felt the tears running down his face and fell to his knees.

He heard the steps behind him and turned to face Stiles. He was pale and his dark eyes stood out starkly on his face.

“Sam.” He whispered.

Sam nodded.

“They took everything from me.”

Sam nodded again. “I know.” He thought of Dean, unable to control himself. Of Cas, silent and still.

~~~

Cas was half carried downwards into the darkness behind the crucifix. Dean and Derek were able to walk on their own, but Derek was chained. They didn’t need chains on Dean; Cas with an angel blade to his throat worked the best.

The catacombs were barely lit by hanging lanterns that you would buy for a camping trip-

_But when we were laying out underneath the stars… I named them all after you… My sky is made up of you, Dean._

Dean watched as Cas was shoved in a cell and him and Derek were shoved into another cell. The walls were rough granite and there was a pile of cloth in the corner of the cell. A single lightbulb lit the cell. There was nothing else in it. As soon as they were inside, Derek snapped the chains on his wrists.

“Where is he?” Dean demanded, pushing against the door. Derek stepped back as he watched Dean’s muscles bunch and heave but nothing moved. “Where is he?!” He screamed. There were a few soft screams, Derek imagined they were from Kira and Lydia. He hadn’t heard Malia.

“He’s here!” Lydia called out.

“He’s with Lydia.” Derek said.

“He’s right next door.” Dean said, moving and pressing his hands and then his ear to the wall between them. It was rough, made of stone. Derek saw Dean’s fingers curl into the stone, and winced as he saw one of his fingernails snap off. Dean didn’t even blink.

“Ok, what do I do?” Lydia called out. She fell to her knees next to the man with dark hair. In the dim light she saw that he was pale but when she checked him for wounds, there was nothing wrong with him. His breaths were shallow and quick.

Dean punched the wall and Derek heard the crack of bones seconds before he heard them reset themselves. The wall didn’t give.

“Is he awake?” Dean asked.

“No. What’s his name?” Lydia asked. She stood and grabbed the pile of ratty blankets that had been her bed for the past month.

“Castiel.” The rough voice said from next door. “His name is Castiel.” Lydia didn’t need to know what the relationship was between the man next door and Castiel at her feet. It was clear in the pain that etched his voice. “I need you to take care of him.” Dean said and his voice broke. He slipped to his knees. “Anything you have to do, _anything_ , just please- Lydia-” Dean shook his head and Derek was glad that he couldn’t see his face. “I’ll do anything. Anything you ever need, I’ll do it.” He leaned against the wall. “Please.”

Lydia fell to her knees beside Castiel and wrapped the blanket around. “Castiel.” She whispered. “It sounds holy. Old.”

“He’s angel.” Dean said.

Lydia nodded and leaned forward. “Castiel, wake up.” She whispered in his ear. “It’s not time yet.”

Cas opened his eyes to a bare slit. “Lydia.” He said joyfully. “Oh, Lydia.”

She wanted to cry when he spoke her name like that. She felt treasured and whole, something she hadn’t felt in a long time. She felt safe and warm and she knew it was him, giving her one last piece of hope.

“No, don’t do that.” Lydia said. She smiled and pushed her hair out of her face. “I’m fine. See? You just need to rest. The guy next door needs you.”

“Dean.” Cas whispered and closed his eyes. “I love him.”

“He loves you.” Lydia said. “Stay with us, please.” She said. Lydia didn’t understand why she was begging this man to stay with her. Why it suddenly meant more to her that this man lived than her own escape did.

“Lydia?” Dean called.

“He’s talking. He told me he loves you.”

“Tell him that I-” Dean stopped. “Tell him that I need him to tell me all the names of the stars.”

Cas smiled even though his eyes were closed. “There’s only one name for them.”

Lydia felt a goodbye in those words. “He said,” She cleared her voice, thick suddenly with unexplainable tears. “He said they only have one name.”

“No, Cas.” Dean begged.

Derek watched as Dean’s posture gave way and he laid his head against the stone wall. “No, please. Castiel.” He stopped. “I can’t do this without you. It’s too much. I can’t bear it, Cas, please, you were wrong. I can’t be this without you.”

“Do you hear him? Stay, Castiel, please.” Lydia begged.

He finally opened his eyes to look at her. They were a startling blue. “You are not the end, Lydia.” He said softly. He reached a hand up to her hair. “Death is not your end. It’s not anyone’s end. Without death, there can be no life.” He watched her for a long moment. “You understand.”

She nodded and wiped at her face. She scooted close to Castiel and gathered the much larger man up in her arms and pulled him up to her, to hold him. She didn’t say anything, just rocked him slowly. He was silent and after a few seconds she tipped her head up to the ceiling and felt what she knew was the beginning of the end. She shook her head, refusing to acknowledge what was in her arms.

“Lydia, is he-?” Dean said softly.

Lydia didn’t have it in her to answer. Instead, she continued to rock Castiel’s body in her arms.

 

  


 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies. This chapter gets a little rough. I just want to warn you of the following triggers: child abuse, homophobia, drinking, violence.  
> If these are issues for you, please skip this one and feel free to message me over at my tumblr so I can let you know what happened, trigger free.

**[ ** Playlist ** ](https://play.spotify.com/user/ymfnm/playlist/7CqUQLTmkwj9aS4Q0uHY0a) **

_**October, 1997** _

The days passed a lot easier than Dean had anticipated. Usually when his dad was gone this long, he would get a sick feeling in his stomach, like something was nesting there and it didn’t go away until he heard his father’s voice.

Now, he stayed busy. He had school and Sam and his friends to focus on. They watched movies and spent time at Derek’s house where Talia mothered them and fed them too much food. Dean watched as Sam and Cora grew closer until they were in sync in almost every conceivable manner. Derek and Dean would spend as much time together as they could and Dean knew that if it were just for a little while, then he should be grateful for every single moment. And he liked having Derek around. It was different from any other person he was with. Derek didn’t feel the incessant need to fill all the spaces of silence with meaningless words. Touches, yes. He was constantly surprised at how much Derek touched him. At school and home, there was almost always a gentle pressure on his hip when he leaned against Derek’s locker, or on his wrist when they ate lunch. Sometimes, when it was just the two of them at the docks, Derek would slide his fingers through Dean’s hair, making it a wild mess. Sometimes when they were doing homework, Derek would reach over to hold his hand while he read through Othello or something equally as confounding.

It was home like Dean had never known.

Wrapped up in a blanket, laying on their backs in the treehouse, Derek turned to Dean. “Wanna go to the beach tomorrow?” He asked.

“Isn’t it kinda cold?” Dean asked, eyes closed, listening to the wind through the trees.

“We won’t swim. It’s supposed to be cloudy tomorrow. You need to see the clouds over the sea before you leave.” Derek laid back down and closed his eyes, his hand in Dean’s.

Dean hummed. “Ok. Wanna take the kids?”

“I think they are too busy protesting Waterson’s history assignment.”

“Ah. That’s right.” Dean said. In Cora and Sam’s history class they were required to pick a Native American tribe and bring in three things that were culturally representative of said tribe and for one of them to dress up as a member of that tribe. Sam had quickly taken offense to the subject and Cora had been swiftly on board with Sam’s objections. Now they were creating a slideshow and essay based on their objections and how they could have been given a better, and more respectful, assignment. “Are they turning that in soon?” He asked.

“Tuesday.”

“Oh good.” Dean said and rolled over on his side and looked at Derek’s profile. His eyes were still closed but as Dean watched, a smile grew on his lips. Dean leaned close and kissed his chin and cheek and nipped gently as mouth. “Yes, let’s go. If your mom doesn’t mind Sam hanging around.”

“Are you kidding? She’ll get to feed him more.” Derek said, chasing after Dean’s mouth.

“Ok. Tomorrow.” Dean said, leaning in and pressing his mouth to Derek’s in a slow and languid kiss that left Derek dizzy and clutching at Dean.

“I’ll pick you up in the morning.” Derek said.

~~~

After Derek and Dean dropped Sam off at the Hale’s house, they turned the truck to the coast and made for the beach. Derek was right, it was cloudy and overcast and the threat of rain was heavy in the air. Dean watched the scenery, soaking up every second that he had with Derek. They were holding hands, the gear shift clutched between their palms. Derek had his arm out the window despite the coolness of the air. Dean pressed in closer to him as the drive passed, seeking out that heat that he always emanated.

“I can shut the window.” Derek offered when he finally noticed that Dean was now pressed next to him, shoulder to knee, and his arm was around Dean’s shoulders.

“No. This is fine.” Dean said, his hand on Derek’s thigh. “This is good.”

Derek smiled and turned his gaze to the window and the road beyond. “Almost there.”

Dean couldn’t help but feel a snarl of disappointment in his chest at Derek’s words. He wouldn’t have minded spending days and days in the cab of the truck, listening to the tires on the road, and the soft music on the radio. But when Derek pulled into the parking lot and he got his first unobstructed view of the water and the clouds over it, he was ok with stopping.

“Holy shit.” Dean said. He fumbled with his door handle before finding it and making his way out. He walked out over the pavement until his feet hit sand and stood there for a second. Derek came up behind him and hooked his chin over Dean’s shoulder. “That’s amazing.” Dean muttered. The clouds hung thick and purple over the water, and in the far distance, there was lightning. “Holy shit.” Dean said again.

Derek wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist, and Dean leaned into him, practically unaware of the movement. He wasn’t used to being able to lean against anyone. His dad didn’t encourage physical affection (or any kind of affection at all, if Dean was being real honest) and Sam was always the one to lean on Dean. It was a relief to lean against someone who could bear him, if only physically.

“You like it?” Derek asked, tucking his hands into the pockets of Dean’s black sweatshirt.

“It’s amazing, Derek.” He shook his head. “We spend all this time traveling and seeing all kinds of shit but we never just stop and,” He gestured to the clouds, “Look. We just never look.”

Derek took his hands out of Dean’s pockets and took his hand instead. “Let’s walk.” He said. He tugged Dean after him and Dean willingly joined him. They didn’t speak, just traced their way along the waves lapping at the shore and held hands loosely. They rounded a cove and came to some stones and outcroppings. The clouds were dangerously low and Derek kept glancing up at them.

“We should go, if we don’t want to get rained on.” He said.

“Do you melt in the water?” Dean asked, smirking at him.

“No, but I don’t want you getting sick either.” Derek said.

“What about you? Who worries about you?” Dean asked, stepping closer to Derek.

“There’s my mom. Cora. You. But I don’t get sick.” Derek said with a shrug.

“Tough guy, huh?” Dean asked.

Derek grinned and shrugged. Dean’s eyes traced him from his feet up, grinned and tackled him.

The sand was soft where Derek landed and laughed, even as the full weight of Dean fell on him. He pushed him up at the shoulders, laughing. Dean was grinning and Derek flipped him over easily so that he was on top and Dean was below him, pinned by Derek’s knees.

Derek raised his hands to an invisible audience. “The winner by knock out, Derek Hale!”

Dean suddenly twisted his body, bucked Derek off, and climbed on. “Oh, in a stunning rematch, Dean Winchester is declared the winner by a unanimous vote!”

Derek laughed and tugged Dean down to his level. “Fine. You can have this round, Winchester.” He kissed Dean and cradled his face and laughed at him some more.

Dean tugged him to his feet. “Let’s go find us some grub.”

They turned and Derek was a couple of steps ahead of Dean when the rain overhead broke. Dean gasped at the first initial downpour, soaking him almost instantly. It was cold and they were kind of far from the truck. Derek laughed and held out his hand for Dean to grasp and they held hands and ran for the truck.

Once in the cab of the truck, Derek dug through the backseat for a towel and handed it to Dean. He turned the heat on high and watched as Dean rubbed his hair dry, leaving it sticking up wildly again. Derek broke down in a fit of laughter.

Dean flipped the visor down. “All right, Chuckles.” He muttered, patting his hair down. Once he got it right he poked Derek in the side. “Food, now. You had me running in the rain on the beach. I’m starving.”

Before starting the truck, Derek reached for one more kiss and was rewarded for his effort. Derek drove down the street where there were tourist shops and the restaurants were side by side. He parked off the side of the main road and they hopped out of the truck and ran underneath the awning of the closest shop. Dean reached for Derek’s hand and they strolled for a moment.

“Let’s go in here.” Derek said, tugging Dean into a small bakery he would have passed by entirely if it weren’t for Derek. Dean followed him in and the smell of baking bread overwhelmed him and the guy behind the counter smiled warmly at them.

“Hey guys. Welcome to The Bun Also Rises.” He said cheerily.

They smiled at him. “What’s good?” Dean asked, leaning against the counter and straining his neck back to see the menu above and behind the guy.

“Customer service answer or the real answer?” The guy said.

Dean laughed. “Real answer.”

“Turkey on sourdough, loaded and a bowl of clam chowder.” The guy said.

“I’ll have that.” Dean said.

“I’ll have the French dip.” Derek said after a moment.

The guy nodded. “Take a seat wherever. I’ll bring it out to you when it’s ready.” Dean handed over money after a brief, but tense, argument.

The restaurant was hardly packed. Maybe because most of the families that would populate a place like this were still either asleep or in church or maybe it was the downpour. Derek took a seat at a table for two in the corner, his back to the door, facing Dean. Dean slid into the chair and they both glanced out the window that was right next to them. The rain made everything blurry and hazy.

“This is nice.” Dean breathed. He relaxed and looked around the place. It was done up in all warm and honey browns, the light gentle and some kind of low music playing in the kitchens. It was warm from the ovens baking in the back and there were shelves placed in the center of seating area, displaying gourmet kitchen utensils and specialty ingredients. There was another couple sitting across from them, the guy playing with the girl’s fingers and she was looking up at him through her lashes. He was smiling and saying something to her and nodding.

“Ugh, is that what we look like?” Dean whispered to Derek as he noticed Derek’s fingers on his wrist.

“Sort of.” Derek admitted.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, “Sort of?”

“Less chick, more dude.” Derek said with a roll of his eyes. “But everything else, yeah. You look at me like she’s looking at him.”

“That’s a lie.” Dean declared and leaned back against his chair.

“You have these,” Derek gesticulated wildly at Dean, “ _Looks_ and you use them when you want something. It’s not fair.”

Dean leaned forward across the table. “Oh and the mouth thing is ok?”

“What _mouth thing_?” Derek asked.

“When you lean back and lick your lips and then smile all slow and shit. Wanna talk about not fair? Let’s talk about that.” Dean said pointing to him.

The guy from the counter came over and put their plates in front of them and it was silence while they dug in and ate their fill.

“I don’t do that.” Derek said finally. He wiped his mouth with the napkin and Dean rolled his eyes.

“All right, hot stuff.” He said sarcastically.

Derek tossed down a couple of bills on the table and stood. The other couple glanced over at them as Dean took Derek’s outstretched hand. Suddenly the girl stood and made her way over to them as they reached the door. Dean and Derek turned at the same time at the sound of her boots on the wooden floor. The guy she was with smirked at them.

“Excuse me.” She said and stopped in front of them. “I’m- I just wanted to tell you that a block and a half down there is a photo booth around the corner from the ice cream shop.” She glanced back at the guy waiting on her and he just laughed and shook his head. He made a gesture with his hands as though to tell her to go on. “I’m a photographer and you guys look really great and I just think that you should have something to look at with the both of you in it.” She smiled shyly and Dean felt the tension leave his body. He was expecting another incident like the one at the lumber yard.

He smiled widely. “Thank you.” He said honestly.

She smiled back and turned to her boyfriend. He shrugged helplessly at them, as though to say _What can I say?_

They laughed and left the small bakery and Derek turned the direction the girl had pointed. “Wait, you really want to-?” Dean asked.

“Hell yes, I want to.” Derek said. He tipped his head and licked his lips. _Liar_ , Dean thought mutinously. “Don’t you?”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, ok.” He said.

They tried to stay out of the rain but by the time they got to the photo booth and deposited their money, their hair was crazy from the rain and the first picture was of them laughing at each other.

The second was was Derek patting Dean’s hair down and Dean looking up at him.

The third was of Dean leaning in towards Derek and placing an almost chaste kiss to his lips.

The fourth was Derek and Dean leaning into each other, Derek’s hand splayed across Dean’s neck and jaw.

They stayed like that for a long time.

“You ready?” Dean asked, his heart pounding.

“Yeah.” Derek said softly. Dean plucked the pictures from the holder and they left to the truck, hand in hand once more.

~~~

It was dark when they made it back to the Hale household. Talia was sitting on the porch once more, a blanket wrapped around her, a book in hand, watching the rain and the boys as they drove up.

“Did you have a good time?” She asked them as they stepped up on the porch.

“It’s amazing out there.” Dean admitted. He glanced around. “Where’s Sam?”

“Him and Cora are at the treehouse. They’ve eaten but I can heat you boys up something if you’d like.”

Derek shook his head. “We ate while we were out.”

“Well, go gather those two up.” Talia glanced up at the clouds. “The worst of it is coming in soon.”

Derek and Dean turned as one to the direction of the treehouse.

“I was thinking-” Dean started.

“Dangerous prospects.” Derek said with a grin.

“Shut up.” Dean said, a smile on his lips nonetheless. “I was thinking that we might stay.” He cleared his throat. “For awhile, I mean. Me and Sam.”

Derek stopped in his tracks and Dean watched, amused, as water from a branch just above him, dripped on his chest and cheek. “What?” He said.

“I know I said I couldn’t do it, but it’s only a couple months till graduation.” Dean rushed on. “I can get a job, handle what I have to. Its only three months till I’m eighteen and be Sam’s legal guardian.” He rubbed his face. “Look, ok, I know it’s going to be hard and it’s going to suck for like, the next ten years. But-” Dean looked around at the forest and Derek and saw something that Derek didn’t think he could see. “But this is what I want for Sam. Something like this, you know?”

Derek nodded dumbly.

“I might have to ask your mom to vouch for me or whatever. Maybe ask her to run it by the sheriff, I don’t know, man, but say something.”

“I-” A thousand problems ran through Derek’s head. Being a werewolf and being with Dean didn’t even make the the top ten. “Yes.” He said, finally, nodding.

“That’s it? That’s all you got? This has been killing me all day and that’s all you can say?”

Derek nodded again.

“Well, I guess I did kind of spring it on you.” Dean muttered. Then he glanced up at Derek. “Yeah?” He whispered.

“Yes.” Derek whispered back.

“Let’s go get them. I’ve got a thousand things to do before my dad comes back.” Dean said and began to pull Derek to the treehouse.

“Like what?” Derek asked as Dean pulled him along.

“Figuring out finances, finding a job, finding something to do with Sam when I’m at my job, talking to your mom, to the sheriff.” Dean stopped and rubbed his face. “I don’t want to, but if I can get something good here for Sammy-”

“And you.” Derek interjected.

“If I can get something good here for us,” Dean amended, “Then I can tell them whatever they need to hear.”

Derek slowed to a stop. “What do you mean?”

Dean glanced over his shoulder. Without a word, Dean lifted his hoodie to show him a scar just above his left hip. “Knife fight. Dad was trying to show me how to disarm a guy. Didn’t disarm him fast enough. He did this.” Dean turned and lifted the back of his shirt. There was a small hole. “Man was going after dad. I tried to stop him. I got shot.”

Derek raised a hand to his mouth. He heard a high buzzing sound in his ears.

Dean pushed his arm up and there was another long scar there, but this one looked surgical. “Tree branch-”

“Please stop.” Derek whispered. He reached forward and pulled down the sleeve of Dean’s hoodie. “You’re here now.”

Dean’s lips formed a thin line and nodded. “Let’s go get them. It’s getting late.”

~~~

Dean wanted to hold off on talking to Talia until he was able to talk to Sam first, so they only stepped in the house to say goodbye before they all piled in the truck to go back to the little house behind the library.

Sam and Cora filled them in on the rest of their presentation on the way home, finishing up with Sam saying, “So we expect to fail this project.”

“Will it hurt your GPA?” Dean asked, slightly distracted. The rain was coming down harder now.

“Not that much. There’s always extra credit anyway.” Sam said with a shrug. Dean glanced behind him, amazed at his nonchalance.

Derek turned down the road behind the library and there was no mistaking the car parked in front of the house.

Dean sat up straighter immediately and him and Derek exchanged a look. The panic palpable.

“Dean?” Sam said, leaning forward too. “What is-”

“Dad.” Dean whispered.

Sam fell back against the seat.

Derek pulled to a stop opposite the Impala and Dean had never in his life recalled a moment when he was intimidated by the car itself. Now, now he was.

There was silence in the truck. They watched as the door to the little house opened and a figure stood in the doorway, arms crossed.

“I gotta go.” Sam whispered to Cora. He pulled her over to him and pressed his lips to hers, the sweetest and most innocent kiss that he could offer her. “I gotta go.” He said again.

“Sam.” She said. She wasn’t asking him to stay, that wasn’t in her plan. But she needed him to know that there was something in her heart for him and there would always be. He was her best friend.

Sam nodded, opened his door and slid out of the cab of the truck. He made his way to his dad standing in the door and slipped past him, into the house. Dean opened his door slowly and Derek did the same. Dean stayed at the door after he closed it and watched his father closely. He couldn’t tell if he had been drinking.

“Dean.” Derek said from his side.

“Let me handle this.” Dean said. “Just- just keep Sammy safe, ok?”

Derek hesitated but nodded.

Dean turned to Derek and pulled him into a kiss. It was hungrier than Derek could remember and left him gasping for breath. He stumbled after Dean let go. Dean turned to John and started to him, swaggering.

“That’s _enough_.” John said from the door. He took the two steps down. “Come here, son.”

“No, dad.” Dean said. There was a tension in his shoulders that Derek hadn’t seen before. He shook his head and took a step away from the porch, away from John.

A step back towards Derek.

“Son, you come here.” John said in a low growl and it made Derek’s shoulders prickle unpleasantly.

Dean shook his head again and stepped back once more. He was fifteen feet away from Derek, ten feet from his dad. The Impala was parked just to Dean’s right. Sam peeked his head around his father’s imposing frame.

“Sammy, come here.” Dean said softly. There was a danger in the air, something that made Derek hold still, something that made him want to cower in front of a much larger predator. But there was no larger predator here, Talia was the only one who could make Derek cower. Derek had to remind himself of that when he stared at John’s towering figure on stoop. He still couldn’t make out any of his features from the lighting behind him.

Sam glanced up at his dad and then back at Cora in the truck. He looked to Derek and Derek shook his head, begging Sam silently.

 _Please don’t tell him_.

Derek would keep his promise.

But he wouldn’t turn Dean away either.

Sam stepped out gingerly but stayed at his father’s side.

“Dean, come home.” He said softly.

“No, Sam.” Dean said. “You’re right. You’ve _been_ right. We’ll never have a home. Not with him. He won’t let us have that.”

John’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared and Derek could smell the violence coming off of him. In three swift strides, he was on Dean, grabbing him by the arm and backhanding him swiftly. “I gave you an order!” He said.

“I’m not a soldier!” Dean screamed back and tried to wrench his arm away from his father. Derek could smell the blood coming off of Dean but he was still unsure of what to do. He started forward but John pulled a gun and pointed it at him. Derek stopped in his tracks. His mother had been shot before, his father and even his older sister. Derek could probably survive but the thought of being shot was an unpleasant one. John turned his attention back to his son.

“You are _my_ son. You will do as your told. You will get your ass in the car-”

“Fuck you!” Dean screamed, louder this, and it seemed to snap something in John. He grasped Dean’s other arm but Dean struck out at his father, hitting him in the chest, but probably aiming for his throat. “We’re done. We’re done! We aren’t living like this! Mom wouldn’t want us living like this!”

The last sentence set off a firestorm in John. He pushed Dean into the front of the Impala and there was a flurry of fists. John landed the majority of them, but Derek was proud to see that Dean landed a few too. Derek began to move towards the two of them, the consequences be damned.

“Stop!” Sam said from the porch and he rushed the two of them. He got in between them and had a sawed off shotgun in his hands. He stood over Dean who was slumped against the headlights of the Impala, nearly blinding Derek.

“Put down that gun, son. It’s just rock salt and we both know it.” John growled. Derek watched, fascinated, as the blood dripped down his fists and fell to the rocks at their feet. It was all in shadows and the blood looked black.

“And we both know how much you’ll bleed if I shoot you in the face.” Sam snarled. “Like that time you shot me with it. Or Dean.”

Derek no longer wondered where this streak of violence in Sam came from.

“You stay away from him.” Sam breathed, “And we’ll go with you.”

“No, Sam.” Dean said. He struggled to his feet. “You go call the sheriff.”

Sam shook his head and gestured at his father to drop the gun in his hand. Despite what kind of father he had already displayed himself as, Derek didn’t think he would shoot his kids.

John dropped the gun willingly enough.

Sam gestured to the porch.

John went.

“Dean, we have to go with him.” Sam said and for the first time since Derek had known him, he sounded on the verge of a breakdown. His voice cracked and he had to raise a hand to his face.

“No we don’t.” Dean said. He stood, painfully, and looked to Derek and Cora. “We can-”

“No we can’t!” Sam screamed and it was worse than the fight.

Derek closed his eyes.

“The Hales are a werewolf pack.” Sam said to Dean.

There was only the sound of the rain hitting the gravel at their feet.

Dean looked up at Derek and in all his life, from that moment on, he would know what betrayal looked like.

“You’re-” Dean started and he crumpled in on himself. He held his stomach and turned away.

“Dean-” Derek started.

“No!” Dean said, trying to back up, only to hit the Impala. “Is what he saying true?”

Derek opened his mouth but nothing came out.

“Oh god. Oh Jesus.” Dean whispered. He leaned over and he thought he was going to be sick. Derek tried to take a deep breath, to catch the scent of Dean. But he didn’t smell like rain or sunshine anymore.

“Don’t come near us.” Dean whispered.

“Dean, please.” Derek begged.

“No!” Dean shouted.

And Derek smelled the tears before he saw them.

“No.” Dean repeated and Derek watched as he became a hunter, the thing that killed parts of his family. His voice was low and dangerous. “I don’t _know_ you. You’re the thing we hunt. You’re a _monster.”_

Derek watched Dean’s chest rise and fall. He remembered falling asleep next to him. “This is your one chance, Hale. If I come back here again, I will tear your world apart.”

Sam shuffled into the car behind him and he slammed the door. John already had a bag over his arm and Dean limped over to the side of the car, holding his ribs. He slid in slowly, painfully.

The car started up with a roar. Derek stepped out the way and watched it disappear.

Derek didn’t need to reply. Dean Winchester had already torn his world apart.

~~~

“I guess that’ll teach you.” John muttered, an hour later, glancing over at Dean.

“What pisses you off more, dad? The fact that he was a guy or the fact that he was a werewolf?” Dean asked. And then he laughed.

John didn’t reply. In fact, that was the last thing he said to Dean on the five hour drive to San Francisco. That was fine with Dean. He couldn’t speak now anyway. Sam was in the backseat, a crumpled up mess. As surely as the Winchesters had torn through the Hales, they had returned the favor.

When John parked outside the motel, Dean got out of the car and headed for the sidewalk. He didn’t look back. John didn’t acknowledge him leaving and Sam was left standing in the parking lot. He sighed and grabbed Dean’s bag and joined his father in the motel room.

John still did not speak.

~~~

On the way home, Derek realized he was shaking.

“Der?” Cora asked.

He jerked the wheel over to the side of the road and slid from out behind the wheel. He was breathing hard and his heart was pounding in his chest and the high pitched ringing was still there. His eyes couldn’t focus on anything. He was trying to find some kind of foothold, something to keep him steady, but he felt unmoored, lost and sloshing through a heavy, wet snow-

“Derek.” A voice commanded him and he looked up and saw his mother and the sheriff in front of him.

“ _Breathe_.” His mom said, grabbing his face in her hands and making him face her. There was the flash of red there and his answering blue and finally the world came crashing back in.

“Mom.” He whimpered and leaned into her.

Talia found Cora’s face, wet with tears.

“Baby.” She said and rocked him there, on the side of the road. The blue lights of Sheriff Stilinski’s flashed in his eyes and he leaned into his mom and let him bear his weight.

“Come on. Get in the truck.” She whispered. “Let’s go home.”

~~~

Hours later, Sam went to go look for him. He found Dean in a park seven miles away. Dean sat on a park bench, his sprawl loose and easy. In his hand was a bottle.

Sam sat next to him and nodded at the bottle. “Are you going to hit me if I take that from you?”

Dean looked down at the bottle. “Don’t.” He said softly. Sam didn’t say anything when he saw the tears fall. “Just let me have this one, Sam.”

Sam nodded and learned heartbreak from his older brother.

~~~

Three days later, Dean and Sam sat in the motel, sharing a bed, and watched their father throw things into a bag. Dean was still pretty banged up and John had yet to enroll them in a new school.

“This is a short one.” John muttered but he didn’t look at either one of his sons. “I should be back the day after tomorrow. We’ll head out to Indiana then.”

There was a knock at the door and Sam and Dean turned matching expressionless faces to it when his dad answered the door. There was a young woman there with light brown hair. In any other state, Dean would have been interested. She was pretty.

“You ready, Winchester?” She asked and peered inside.

“Yeah.” John said and shouldered his bag. He tossed the keys to Dean who let them drop at his feet.

“Who are these charming young men?” The woman drawled. Her voice was low and husky and it grated against Sam’s nerves. He snorted and turned away, into his brother.

“My sons. Older one here is Dean and the younger is Sam.” John said. “Boys, say hi to Kate Argent.”

Sam passed Dean the remote and Dean turned the tv on.

The last thing they heard after they left was the roar of Kate’s car leaving the hotel.

~~~

The next day, Sheriff Stilinski pulled Derek and Cora out of class to tell them that their house had burned to the ground. Everyone inside was dead.

~~~

Three days after he left, John Winchester returned to the hotel for his sons.

“Why do you smell like smoke?” Sam asked.

“Get in the car.” John said.

  
  


 


	13. Chapter 13

**[ ** Playlist ** ](https://play.spotify.com/user/ymfnm/playlist/7CqUQLTmkwj9aS4Q0uHY0a) **

_**Present** _

They stumbled into the dark house, keeping each up. They slammed into the front hallway door and Sam kicked it shut and Stiles threw mountain ash at the door.

They had been chased since they had managed to make it into the Jeep after their pit stop. The werewolves were at their heels constantly and Sam felt like they were one vicious snap away from getting their throats torn out.

“You ok?” Sam gasped.

Stiles was limping and holding his side but he nodded. “Yeah. I think so. You?”

There was a cut beneath Sam’s eye from some broken glass, and he was pretty sure there was something wrong with his shoulder but he nodded anyway. Sam leaned back against the stairs and looked out the window. The whole house was warded and he knew they couldn’t get inside, but he watched as the wolves that surrounded the house melted into the background, so all that was visible was flashes of red and blue.

Stiles followed his gaze. “What are we going to do?” He asked.

Sam had been asking himself that same thing since they had left the church earlier. He kept running over plans but throwing them out. They didn’t have enough people, enough supplies, enough anything.

“I don’t know.” Sam said. He was so used to looking to Dean to brainstorm ideas, to divvy up the responsibilities. “We’ve got to do something soon though. Cas didn’t- he didn’t look like he was going to last much longer.”

“Where do we start?” Stiles asked, gingerly climbing to his feet, wincing as he stood up straight.

“Research.” Sam said. “If we can figure out how to destroy this thing, we can get started.” He started to get to his feet and paused. He looked up at Stiles. “Where’s Talia? She would know where we could start. Why aren’t the wolves here bowing to her? Why would they invade the Hale territory?”

Stiles paused as he limped over to the living room, where all the books were piled. “Talia?” He asked softly.

“Yeah, Derek’s mom. She’s a big deal in the werewolf community.”

Stiles blinked at Sam and paused for a long moment. “Oh, Sam. You don’t know.”

~~~

Derek had slumped against the far wall but stayed as far away from Dean as he could. Dean was still leaning against far wall, with his forehead pressed to the wall.

Derek didn’t say anything, he barely dared to move. Slowly, Dean straightened himself and cleared his throat.

“We need to get out. I’m going to kill that bastard.” He declared.

“Is Cas-” Derek started but stopped when Dean turned to look at him. His eyes were black again.

“Yeah, I would think so.” Dean whispered. “Tell me who’s in here.”

“Scott, Lydia, Malia and Kira.” Derek said. He stood up and tried to back away as Dean stepped towards him.

“Tell me what they can do.” Dean said softly and took another small step to Derek.

“Dean, you know what they can do.” Derek said, inching along the wall to keep the distance between them. It was just like the kitchen; the barely leashed violence, the air thick with tension. But there were no circles to protect Derek anymore, there was no Sam to bring Dean back. It was just the two of them, caught in the shadows that single bare bulb couldn’t dispel. Every single instinct in Derek was telling him to get away.

“Derek, I still have a handle on it.” Dean said soothingly and Derek hated it, but he whimpered. “I can control it. For now. But you have to understand what’s going to happen to you if we do not get out of here.”

Derek was still sliding against the wall away from him.

“Tell me there is someone else out there.” Dean said. “Other than Sam and Stiles.”

“There’s no one else.” Derek said. He shook his head.

“Your sister? Your mom? Where are they?” Dean prodded, stepping closer.

There was something blocking Derek’s throat. “My _mom_?” He asked and he felt the anger rising in him.

“That’s what I said.” Dean said slowly. “She was a pretty big deal. Why is she letting this happen? Did she cut them a deal-”

“My mom’s _dead_.” Derek said and squared his shoulders. “She died three days after you left town.”

Dean went completely still. It was strange, seeing him freeze like that. Dean was almost always moving, fingers tapping out a beat, pacing, gesturing with his hands. “How?” He asked.

Derek shook his head. He closed his eyes. “Someone burned the house down. Kate Argent. She was a hunter too. My mom was trapped in there with a bunch of my extended family. Kids. Older people. They all died.”

“ _Boys, say hi to Kate Argent.”_

“ _Why do you smell like smoke?” Sam asked._

Dean was still for another long moment before he inclined his head. “I’m sorry.” He said softly. He turned away from Derek with some difficulty and looked towards the door. “We still have to get out of here.”

Derek wanted to push the subject, but he reigned himself in. “What do we need to do?”

The door was solid oak, and Dean had already tried it. He threw himself against it again, anyway. The door stayed right where it was.

Derek watched Dean as he stepped away from it and wasn’t all that surprised when his shoulders started shaking in, what Derek thought, was silent sobs.

“Dean?” Derek asked.

Dean turned and Derek was stunned to see a wide grin on his face. “Cas-” He started. “Cas used to do this thing. With doors.” Dean gestured wildly to the door and Derek didn’t want to hear any wild sex stories. “He used to get so mad when Sam and I couldn’t force our way through doors fast enough and he would- he would- he would blow the fuckers apart.” Dean leaned over on his knees. “Sam would spend hours picking pieces of door out of his hair.” Dean waved his hand at the door. “Cas would blow this thing apart and march through like he was the conquering hero.”

Dean stopped laughing and was silent for a long moment as he turned back to the door. The mood swings were definitely concerning Derek.

“Are you ok?” Derek asked after a moment.

“I miss him.” Dean whispered. He put a hand to his collarbone and rubbed there, hard. “Cain, when he had this,” Dean gestured to his arm, “He told me about his wife Collette. She kept him sane, she kept him grounded. He promised her that he would never give in to the killing again. And it worked for a long time.”

“What happened?”

Dean looked up at him and Derek had to repress a shudder at the black eyes and the smirk. “I did.”

“Dean, what are you going to do?” Derek asked quietly.

“I’m going out there and I’m going to kill anyone who was involved in Cas dying. I’m going to break down these walls. And when it’s all said and done, I’m going to get in my car and take my brother and my-” Dean stopped and he choked on his words. “I’m going to take Cas home.”

Derek nodded and took a tentative step to Dean. Dean watched him, his face shadowed. “Let’s get on with it.” Derek said quietly. He approached the door and studied the lock and then the hinges. “Steel.” He muttered. He glanced over his shoulder. “Does being a demon make you strong?”

“Yeah, but that’s oak enforced with steel. They were prepared for us.”

“Let’s try to break it down together.” Derek suggested.

Dean gave Derek a measured glance and shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt.”

They lined up at the far end of the cell, Derek’s back to Dean’s chest. “On three.” Dean said. Derek nodded. “One, two, three!”

They ran and threw themselves at the door and the entire cell shook. There was a shriek from Lydia next door.

“Guys, no!” Another voice came from down the hall. “Stop!”

“Who’s that?” Dean asked, rubbing his shoulder as they both took up their positions. “Again.” Dean said.

“It’s Kira.”

They threw themselves at the door and something gave a horrid screech.

“Stop!” Kira screamed.

“No, Derek, stop!” Lydia said from next door.

“We’re trying to get out!” Dean hollered.

“You’re killing us!” Scott moaned faintly. So faintly that if you didn’t have supernatural abilities, you would have missed it.

Dean put a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “What are they talking about?”

Derek shook his head and went to the door. There was a small window, right above Dean’s head and he shouted up to it.

“Kira. What are you saying?” He asked.

There was a pause and it sounded like someone shuffled to the door. “Every time we tried something, to break out, to call, they would punish us. Push us to the edge of almost dying. Malia has been chained to a wall and gagged since I got here. She kept trying to call to us. I was waterboarded. Lydia was-”

“Please, don’t.” Came a soft voice next to them.

Kira stopped talking. “Scott was trying to break out. Repeatedly. Whatever this did to him, it didn’t stop him from trying. Now he’s strung up in his cell, waist deep in water.”

“How is that stopping him?” Dean demanded.

“The water is electrified.”

Derek turned to Dean. “It’s keeping him a state of almost shifting. Not really human, not really werewolf. It’s the most painful part of shifting when you aren’t really _anything_.”

Dean nodded. He looked at the ground and nodded again. Then he looked up at Derek and his eyes were black. “How good are you with handling torture?”

~~~

Sam was watching the darkness outside the Stilinski home. The trees swayed in the night and the werewolves were gathered outside. He turned back to Stiles who was watching him warily. Sam hadn’t said much since Stiles had told him the date when Derek’s family home had burned to the ground. There was something in his eyes, something tense there that was definitely a story untold, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. So for once, Stiles kept him mouth shut.

After a few more moments of the tense silence, Sam let out his breath in a huff, his shoulders drooping. He leaned against the window sill on his hands and a face appeared in front of him. She growled at him and tried to hit the window, but between the sigils and the mountain ash, she couldn’t get close enough to cause any real damage.

“Let’s take stock.” Sam said and straightened up. Now was not the time to dwell on how John had truly fucked up their lives in every possible way. “What do we have?”

Stiles looked around the living room and gestured. “Us. And some books.”

Sam nodded. “Ok. We can work with that. I’ve had less.”

Stiles raised his eyebrows. “Somehow I doubt that. You’ve _always_ had Dean.”

Sam shook his head and thought about college, when Dean was in hell, when Dean was in Purgatory, when Sam had no soul, when Ruby poisoned him against Dean. “There have been plenty of times when I haven’t had Dean.”

Stiles looked uncertain.

“Ok, Dean and I have always been stronger together than we would ever be apart. Yeah, ok.” Sam shrugged. “But that doesn’t mean that I can’t be strong alone. I’m fighting for him and Cas, you’re fighting for your pack. You can handle yourself and so can I.” Sam nodded. “We just need to be a little stronger for it.”

Stiles huffed and watched Sam as he started to pace. “And how do you propose we go about becoming stronger?”

Sam didn’t answer for a moment and Stiles opened his mouth to ask the question again but Sam beat him to it. “I have no idea. Do you know any demons?”

Stiles was confused for a second and said, “There was this guy Jackson, but I’m pretty sure he was just an asshole. Wait, why?”

Sam laughed softly. “Never mind. Old news.” He sat down on the couch and looked around. He jumped to his feet suddenly. “I know who I can call!” He said and Stiles heard him dump the duffel bag out on the table.

Stiles rushed in after him. “What do you need?” He asked.

“My phone.” Sam said.

“Who are you calling on a phone, man? I thought you were gonna do some badass ritual and call up some badass angel.”

“The only badass angel I trust is imprisoned with Derek and Dean.” Sam muttered, finding what was apparently a burner phone and started scrolling through the numbers.

“So who are you calling?” Stiles asked.

“The king of hell.” Sam said and held the phone to his ear.

~~~

“This is the stupidest thing you could have ever suggested.” Derek said.

“Do you have any other plans, wise ass?” Dean said. “Because if I know my brother, he’s going to come charging in here with a fucking unicorn or whatever he can get his hands on and I would bet my last dollar that Stiles will be right behind him.” Dean took another step back and looked at the door again. “And my brother will do whatever he has to to get me back but I don’t think Stiles knows what that means.”

“What does that mean?” Derek asked slowly.

Dean smirked. “Remember when we saw that movie _Tombstone_? And Wyatt Earp said, ‘You tell him I’m coming and hell’s coming with me!’?”

Derek nodded.

“That’s Sam right now. He’s got enough connections to bring hell down on this place. And I mean that,” Dean met Derek’s eyes, “Quite literally.”

“I thought you were the knight of the hell.” Derek said.

“What’s a knight to a king?” Dean muttered.

“ _What_?” Derek asked.

Dean grinned and threw himself against the door again. The cell shook again and he did it again.

And again.

And again.

The pleads of the others fell on deaf ears until they heard people descending the stairs. Dean didn’t stop. Derek stayed where Dean had directed him. Derek closed his eyes and listened to the steps nearing them.

“You aren’t breaking that door down.” A voice came from the other side of the door.

Dean didn’t reply. He threw himself at the door again and the cell shook.

“Stop.” The voice said.

“Fuck off.” Dean said. He threw himself against the door once more and there was a chorus of growls behind the door. Dean paused and glanced at Derek. Derek raised his fingers. Thirteen in total on the other side of the door. Dean nodded.

The door opened suddenly and a bucket of water was thrown in, right at Dean, who dodged it easily. The following two buckets were also dodged but the fourth one caught Dean on the shoulder. He stumbled back for a moment but then barreled through the door anyway, smoke still pouring from his shoulder.

Dean hit four of the people that were standing outside the door and dropped them easily. Three more rushed him and he caught Derek’s eye as he was pushed back in the hallway and out of Derek’s sight.

“ _Dean we have nothing to fight with.”_

“ _We have me and you. That’s enough. It’ll have to be enough.”_

Derek strode through the open door and six wolves, some half shifted, some still human looking waited for him.

 _Fuck it_ , Derek thought and launched himself at them.

~~~

“Well, if you don’t kill the man, do get his number for me. This,” Crowley gestured to the forcefield, “Is stunning. Genius.”

“Yeah, Crowley, I’ll set up a nice little dinner for the two of you to discuss ways of imprisoning people.” Sam snapped. “Can you help us?”

Crowley watched Sam for a long moment and then shifted his eyes to Stiles who was hiding behind Sam. Sam shoved Stiles behind him. He didn’t like that look in Crowley’s eyes; it reminded him of how he would look at Kevin. After a moment, he let out a long suffering sigh. “No, I can’t.” He gestured to the forcefield. “This, all of this, can only be undone by the destruction of the runes.”

“Ok, so you can’t get us out but is there anything you can do to, I don’t know, give us a boost?” Sam asked.

Crowley’s eyebrows shot up. “A boost? Moose, are you asking me to sacrifice one of my demons?”

“No.” Sam sighed. “Something that doesn’t involve me going darkside with my brother, please.”

“Ah. The vegan menu it is.” Crowley nodded. He took a step back and looked up at the sky. Stiles tracked his movements but did not step out from behind the protection of Sam’s overly large body. He didn’t feel cowardly about hiding behind Sam. The way Crowley looked at him made Stiles feel like he was on the menu of some sex dungeon. “There is something in there, something of great power. You can harness some of its power, use your bodies as conduits, and bam. There you go. An extra shot of adrenaline.”

“What is it?” Sam asked.

Crowley shrugged. “A lamp from a pawn shop, an old book at the library, some forgotten relic in someone’s attic. I have no bloody clue. Ask the little birdie on your shoulder; he has power in him that is unexplained.” Crowley’s eyes met Stiles and he grinned. “Lovely little birdie.”

“Anything else?” Sam said, redirecting Crowley’s attention.

“You’ll find the spell for making yourself a conduit in your duffel along with one or two other goodies I slipped in there.” Crowley said. He stepped back, nodded. “Gentlemen.”

“I didn’t like him.” Stiles muttered as they went back into the house.

“You can join the club.” Sam replied and looked at the table. There was a book lying open on the counter along with three very small vials next to it.

 _Use sparingly,_ the note next to them said.

“Do you know what he was talking about?” Sam asked as he read through the spell, surprised at the simplicity of it.

“Yeah. He was talking about the nemeton. It’s in the woods.”

“Naturally.”

“But it’s the beacon that makes Beacon Hills a beacon. It’s what calls a lot of the weird stuff here.” Stiles took a deep breath and said, “ItsalsothethingthatmademebepossessedbyadarkspiritandmademealmostkilleveryoneIknow.”

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Ok.” He said. He nodded. “Ok.” He repeated. Then he gathered the book and the vials in his arms and said, “What choice do we have? Just- just try not to get possessed again ok?”

“Well it’s not like I had a _choice_ last time, Sam.”

“I know. Just try.” Sam said and put the book and the vials in the bag. “Let’s go.”

~~~

Derek was pinned to the wall with a rebar through each shoulder and one thigh. His body kept trying to heal but the metal was obviously hindering the situation. Deucalion was in front of Dean as he was shackled to a wall in chains. His face had healed from whatever punches had been thrown his way in the brief but violent fight that they had engaged in earlier. He smiled dangerously at the blonde who was locking him up in the chains.

“I’m going to tear your face off.” He told her pleasantly. Derek watched, through a haze of pain, as the woman fumbled with the chains for a moment before locking them in place. If he hadn’t been bleeding out onto the floor he would have smirked.

“Dean.” Deucalion chided gently. “You would think that you would be so much nicer to your captors.”

“Why?” Dean asked, pulling on the chains, testing them and looking up above him and the pins the chains were nailed into.

A tray was pushed in just then and a small man with an overly large belly smirked at Dean. He pushed his glasses up on his nose and laid his hands across his stomach, like he was expecting pleas.

“We could make this go quickly.” Deucalion said and gestured to the man. “Or Francis could take his time. It really is up to you.”

“Fuck off, Duke.” Dean said conversationally, inspecting the cuffs at his wrist first and then the ones at his ankles. “You want polite? You should have captured my brother.” He sniffed the air and cocked his head to the side, his demon eyes suddenly intent on Francis. “You’re human.” He accused.

Francis shrugged.

“And you’re working for this thing?” Dean asked, nodding at Deucalion. “Man, if you really want to hone your skills I could set you up with some people that know what they are doing. _True_ artists.”

Derek had to wonder what he was talking about. Artists? The blood pool around his feet was growing larger. His head slumped forward.

“I believe I am well versed in the arts, Mr. Winchester.” Francis said. His voice was nasal and it grated on Derek’s sensitive hearing. He hoped that Francis would not be speaking much.

Dean stopped and nodded. “All right.” He said. “Let’s get to it. Let’s see what you have there.”

Francis let out a delighted giggle, much like a child would when asked to show off his best toys. Derek watched as he rolled back a clean white sheet to reveal syringes, hammers, pliers, drills, a small bucket and eight silver flasks. Francis put a rosary around Dean’s neck and Dean smiled indulgently. It smoked against his neck and chest.

“Good start.” Dean said encouragingly. “Keep going.”

Deucalion watched and raised his eyebrows at Dean’s words. “He’s bat shit crazy.” Deucalion murmured to Derek.

“Maybe.” Derek muttered. “But he’s going to rip your throat out and you’re going to beg before he’s done.”

Dean’s hands were chained above him but there was about six inches of play for him. He winked at Deucalion and gave him a thumbs up at Derek’s words. Then he turned his attention to Francis. “See, the thing is, with demons, you can exorcise them and force them out of the host. Leaves the host alive, mostly, if the demon hasn’t done anything to the vessel. If they have, the host is fucked.”

Derek didn’t point out the fact that Dean wasn’t just any demon.

Francis hummed as his fingers skipped along the instruments and a man brought in a chair for Deucalion. He sat, right next to Derek. He put his hand in his chin and said out of the corner of his mouth, “I so like watching Francis work. They all start out like this, mouthy.”

“Dean’s always been like this.” Derek said and tried to adjust so that his weight would be on the leg that didn’t have rebar in it. He winced as fresh pain lanced through him.

“I don’t have the exorcism spell on me.” Francis said politely. His fingers fell on a hammer, shiny and new. “But we can try to beat the demon out of you.”

Dean sighed and shook his head. “Francis. I thought better of you.”

Francis smiled politely and flipped the hammer up in the air, fingers more deft that what Derek thought he could imagine. With a swift swing, he slammed it into Dean’s ribs. Dean watched him, face impassive. He didn’t even flinch. Francis tried three more times but by the fourth time, when Dean turned his head and _yawned_ , Francis dropped it to the floor.

“Try the bucket.” Dean said nodding to it. “That’s salt, right?”

Francis sneered at him but pulled a small shovel from it and gestured from someone who was lingering in the door to come forward. A large man, much larger than Dean and possibly even Sam, came forward and grabbed Dean’s jaw.

“You could have just _asked._ ” Dean said and opened his mouth willingly enough. Francis huffed. He seemed insulted that his prisoner was not only participating in the torture but he was giving direction.

Derek laughed.

The salt went into Dean’s mouth willingly enough and Dean shook his head and coughed. “Ok, see that’s the right thing. Right there.” Then he tipped his head back and let out a breath before meeting Francis’ eyes once more. “You have to understand your subject before the real torture begins. I think you know that.”

Francis leaned back on his toes and Derek had to wonder how he did it without falling over. “And what do we know about the captive?” Francis murmured but he didn’t look like he knew an answer.

Dean’s grin widened and he nodded. “What _do_ you know, Francis?”

“There are people you care about.” Francis said. “I could use one of them.”

Dean smiled sadly. “Who do you have here that could possibly make me care?”

“Him.” Francis said, nodding at Derek over his shoulder.

“Oh, I don’t much care for Derek.” Dean said gently. “You can kill him. Do you have anyone else?”

“Your brother.” Francis tried again.

“There you go. Much better target. But I would like to point out several flaws in your plan. One; my brother isn’t here. Two; my brother is much larger than you. Three; my brother will kill you. Four; when I get out of here I will kill just for threatening him.”

Francis smiled widely. “The brother is it. But until then, we’ll have some fun, yeah?”

Dean frowned but gave him a go-ahead gesture nonetheless.

An hour later, the front of Dean’s shirt was stiff and tacky with blood. He was swinging his hands from the chains and had been carrying on a one sided conversation with the large man and occasionally Francis.

“Ok, but Florence and the Machine. Dynamic, right? They did this song, _Seven Devils_. Just, amazing. You should look it up when we’re done here. Are we done here?” Dean asked, looking at Francis who’s shirt was soaked with sweat. He turned his gaze from Francis to Deucalion who was slumped in his seat now. He looked embarrassed.

“Yes, I believe we are done here.” Deucalion said, giving Francis a dismissive wave. Dean gave him a cheery goodbye.

“Oh, hey Francis?” Dean called as Francis turned to leave the room. “I won’t forget you.”

The words rang dangerously in the room.

The large man came in for the cart and pushed it out discreetly as Deucalion approached Dean.

“A man with nothing to lose is a dangerous animal.” He mused softly and wiped at Dean’s chin, where there was still a little blood left over from Francis.

Dean gave him a brilliant smile. “For all you know, Sam is holed up with your precious sacrifice and you killed the only leverage you have.”

Deucalion looked over at Derek. Dean snorted and looked to the door. “Get out.” He ordered.

Much to Derek’s surprise, he did.

Dean reached into his mouth and pulled out a pin. He used it to unlock first one cuff, then the other. He leaned down and undid his legs and then strode over to Derek. He knelt down at Derek’s level and tapped him gently on the cheek.

“Hey there, big boy.” He said. His gentle words were ridiculous when paired with his demon eyes. “I’m gonna pull you off these bars, all right?”

Derek moaned.

“That a yes in my book, for all intents and purposes.” Dean said and stood. He hooked his hands underneath Derek’s arms and pulled swiftly, jerking Derek off the bars and dropping him to the ground. Derek landed with a groan.

“You’ll be fine in a minute.” Dean said.

Derek knew he was right. A few moments later he was able to sit up and breathe normally. “What the hell was the point in that?” Derek demanded.

“Getting a feel for them. Get up. You’re fine and we both know it.”

“What’s the point of getting up? We have no plan.” Derek moaned and he felt something snap into place in his shoulder. He rolled over on his back and started rotating it gently.

“Fine, sit on your ass and _whine,_ Derek.” Dean snapped.

There was a tension in the air that wasn’t there a few seconds ago.

“ _Whine_? I was just impaled and you think I’m whining?” He demanded, now getting to his feet.

“Buddy, you’ve been whining since Sam and I rolled into town.” Dean said flatly. He walked to the chains and jerked one out. “And frankly, I’m fucking done with it.”

“I’ve lost-”

“Don’t.” Dean said softly. His head bowed and he faced the wall, away from Derek. “The last thing you want to talk to me about right now is loss.”

Derek almost held his tongued. Almost. “You are going off the deep end, Dean and if you do, you’ll get everyone here killed.”

Dean laughed and held on to the wall. “You honestly expect me to care at this point? The only thing holding me to you is dead. The only person I will try to get out of here alive is Lydia.” Dean turned and snorted. “The rest of you can go to hell for all I care.”

“Fucking typical.” Derek spat.

“Why the hell are you so angry? You’ve still got your little pack. There _might_ even be a chance that you could get them out alive. Stiles is still out there. Sam is with him. He’s fine.” Dean waved a hand to the exit.

“How can you care so little?” Derek asked after a long moment of glaring at Dean. His stomach was roiling with anger and his fingers shook as his claws slid out.

“Because Cas is dead. Because now that I’m like this and I can feel my control slipping I’m going to have to leave my brother, again. Because I have no one.”

“And who’s fault is that?”

Derek was slammed against the wall once again and Dean was breathing in his face, one arm across his neck, holding Derek against the wall effortlessly. “You think I like this? I like having this thing on my arm, feeling like everything is slipping away from me? I want to tear your throat out with my fingers just to feel the blood run along my palms and you think I _like_ that? I want my life back, I want Cas back.”

“We don’t get what we want.” Derek choked out.

Dean let him fall to the ground, again. “Obviously. Learned that one real quick from you the first time we were here.”

It was Derek’s turn to laugh. “ _You_ learned that from _me_? That’s fucking hilarious, Winchester.”

“Glad you think so.” Dean said, and retreated to the other side of the cell.

“You were the one who left!” Derek shouted, his control having snapped.

“You were the one who lied to me the _entire time I was here_. Everything we had, you just- it didn’t matter, did it? I didn’t matter enough to tell the truth to?”

“Sam asked me not to.” Derek said through gritted teeth.

“Oh.” Dean nodded, as though suddenly clear on the subject. “Ok, so when a fourteen year old kid asks you to do something, you jump to it? Great logic.”

“I was a seventeen year old kid, Dean.” Derek growled.

“Old enough to know not to lie.” Dean muttered.

“And you were old enough to have given me a second chance!” Derek shouted.

“To lie to me again? Thanks, I’m good.” Dean glared at him from across the room and Derek was thankful for the shadows.

“We did what we did because we thought it was right.” Derek replied.

“And how many times has that ever worked out for anyone?” Dean demanded. “I could have gotten past it. I could have overlooked just about anything for you back then, Derek. I was ready to stay in Beacon Hills with you.” Dean snorted. “And you couldn’t even give me the goddamn courtesy of the truth. You let me fall for a lie.”

~~~

The woods that surrounded the nemeton were clear. It was the only bit of luck they had since they had learned that all the transportation they had had flat tires. They had to run from the werewolves, using different spells to hide them from the ones on their heels.

Sam skidded to a stop right in front of it and shook his head, as though he were trying to clear it. Stiles knew exactly what he was feeling. He felt it every time he was out here too. The tree stump was filled to the brim with magical energy, pumped up from an unknown source. It made you feel giddy and impatient, dark but still soft, and so very eager to get to the source.

“Shit.” Sam said. He placed the bag on the ground and approached it warily, one palm out to it. He placed it on the stump and Stiles watched as his shoulders slumped and his head dropped. After a moment he said, “Yeah, this will do it.”

Sam pulled away and fumbled through the bag. “Feel like I drank too much coffee.”

“The first hit is always the strongest.” Stiles agreed, joining him at the base of the stump.

“You’ve been here a lot?” Sam asked.

“My teacher and I meet out here for spells sometimes. He wants me to be aware of the power but aware of the danger as well.”

Sam nodded as though that made sense. He handed one small vial to Stiles and he couldn’t help but notice there was a small tag on it with his name labeled neatly in calligraphy. “My name has never looked so pretty.” He commented, pocketing the small tag.

“Crowley has flair, you gotta give him that.” Sam said and he pulled one with his own name attached. Stiles’ glowed a soothing blue but Sam’s looked a suspicious green.

“How do you know this won’t kill us?” Stiles asked.

“Because if Crowley kills us, he’ll have to deal with my brother. For eternity. The Mark keeps him alive and I actually think that’s the one risk he’s not willing to take.” Sam said, pulling the cork on his and tossing it back casually. He made a face. “Sour apple. Oh, that’s gross. He knows I hate sour apple.”

Stiles drank his more sedately, pleased at the blueberry flavor. “What’s this gonna do?”

“The spell said that if we take too much power, we’ll explode.” Sam replied, flipping open the book. “That stuff will prevent it. Now all we gotta do is offer the nemeton blood, pledge our allegiance to it until the mission is complete and we are good to go.”

“When will we know when the mission is complete?” Stiles asked and watched on in horror as Sam nonchalantly sliced his palm open.

“When everyone is safe.” Sam said and handed the knife over. Stiles refused to take it and Sam grabbed his palm and sliced it open. Stiles gasped and they said the incantation over the nemeton.

Then they sat.

And waited.

Nothing happened.

“Shouldn’t there be something? Lightning? A surge of power? Homicidal urges?” Stiles asked.

“Damn it, Crowley.” Sam muttered and slammed the angel blade he had in his hand into the stump of the nemeton, sinking it in all the way to the hilt.

“Ah.” Stiles said. “Never mind.” He took one of his own blades and flipped it up in the air. He caught it and then threw it with all his strength into a nearby tree. It sank in to the hilt as well.

“Ok, then.” Sam nodded. “I think we’re good.”

“Is this gonna work?” Stiles asked.

Sam hesitated. “If it doesn’t, I’d rather die at my brother’s side than live without him.”

“You two have a worryingly co-dependent relationship, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Not this week.” Sam stood and flipped the angel blade in his hand. He nodded to the direction of the church. “Come on. We’ve got work to do.”

~~~

Silence reigned in the cell. Derek could hear the slosh of the water in Scott’s cell and the chains from Malia’s cell. He could hear Lydia gently covering Castiel’s body next door and he raised his eyes to Dean.

“It wasn’t a lie.” He said softly.

Dean snorted.

“What we had was the start of _something_.” Derek insisted. “It’s fucking tragic that it ended the way it did but if it hadn’t, I would have never had Stiles and you would have never had-” Derek stopped there.

“I never would have had Castiel.” Dean finished for him. “That’s true. Or not. There’s no way to tell.”

Derek cleared his throat and let himself look at Dean. _Really_ look at Dean. His shoulders were slumped and his heart was beating steadily, if slowly. He was tired in a way that Derek couldn’t define. He smelled of defeat.

“Do we forgive each other?” Derek finally asked.

“What’s there to forgive? We were kids. We did what kids do; hurt each other for the sake of growing up.”

There was a shout from above them and they both looked up.

Dean grinned and stood. He brushed his hands over his pants. “Sammy’s here.”

~~~

The first noticeable thing was the speed. Stiles had never moved so quickly or so smoothly in his life. He ducked punches he saw coming miles away. He used his knives and the crossbow that Chris Argent had left him like a pro. He wasn’t even breaking a sweat and the beat of his heart kept him steady, kept him sure.

Between him and Sam, they cleared out the front of the church, the pews and the altar in five minutes. At the base of the crucifix, they both looked behind themselves, at the bodies that littered the ground. Some were still alive, but not for long. The majority of them were not. Sam’s shirt and face were splashed with blood and Stiles could feel a thick streak of it from his left eye, across his nose and mouth and ending at his chin.

They blinked at each other for a long moment.

“You look like a maniac.” Sam said finally.

“You don’t look much better.” Stiles said. They could see the doorway that would lead them into sacristy, the small room where the priest would prepare himself for Mass, and behind that was the other door that would lead them down into the catacombs where the others were being held.

“We’re going to have to split up.” Sam declared before either of them moved. “One of us has to go find the runes, and the other has to get Dean free.”

“And the others.” Stiles added.

“Dean has to be first.” Sam insisted.

Stiles sighed.

“Look, whoever goes after the runes is pretty much just a stop-gap until someone bigger and stronger than the demon werewolf fuck can come along and stop him. Get Dean out first, he’ll stop him.”

“Scott’s pretty strong.” Stiles countered.

“Not as strong as a pissed of demon knight.” Sam replied. He looked up at the faded shadow of the crucifix that was bathed in the moonlight. “I’ll go for the runes. You get them free.”

“No, wait-” Stile said.

“We need to move our collective asses here, Stiles. If I go after the runes, if _my_ life is in danger, then Dean will get to me faster. No offense.” Sam added. Stiles shrugged. “But wherever they are, they are going to be guarded. You can’t have mercy on these guys. They are cowards and if you leave so much as one alive-” Sam didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t have to.

Stiles nodded. “Fine. Go after Deucalion and the runes. I’ll go get your brother.”

Sam placed a hand on his shoulder. “Watch your back.”

Stiles felt slightly ill at the thought of leaving Sam’s side. “Yeah. Yeah, you too.”

They entered the sacristy together and stepped through the door at the back of the room. It led them to a hallway, one that went right, down to the catacombs where everyone was, and one to the left. Stiles had never been that way. He chewed on his lip and him and Sam exchanged one last look. Sam gave him a single nod of his head, _Go ahead. I’ll be fine,_ before he turned and faded into the darkness with a worrying amount of ease.

Stiles squared his shoulders and went to the right and down into his own darkness.

~~~

Sam immediately ran into guards. Three people, two men and a woman, jumped on him from above, dropping him to the ground. Without Stiles there, he felt more at ease swinging and slashing at whatever was closest. He could feel the nemeton pumping through him; the more power he used, the more power it gave him. It felt like a bottomless well of faith, of anger, of vengeance. He thought of Cas at the foot of the altar, pale and still. He thought of Dean screaming at him to run and before he realized it, he had killed the other three, their bodies lying broken at his feet.

He wiped the blood from his eyes and moved on, listening carefully, watching where he placed his feet.

~~~

Stiles made it almost all the way down the stone steps that led to the catacombs without any resistance. At the foot of the stairs, there was a sharp right, followed by a sharp left and then a long hallway and a rough wooden door that led to the cells. Before the first turn, Stiles pressed his back to the wall and closed his eyes.

 _Listen, Stiles._ Deaton’s voice echoed in his mind. _Everything you need to know is right here if you listen._

So Stiles stopped and listened. He could hear the voices of at least four people, but the heartbeats of another three. Four people were walking the hallway of th cells and the other three lingered outside. They spoke casually of sports and food and wondered out loud if the this Deucalion guy’s idea would actually work. Seven was a lot, even with Stiles all pumped up on all the magic. He took a deep breath and prayed.

“Dean. Dean? Can you hear me? Cas? Derek? Someone, let me know if you can hear me.” He whispered out loud.

~~~

“Stiles.” Dean said all of a sudden. He whipped his head around and stared at the exit of the hallway of the cells. Or where it should be, since he couldn’t see through walls. He strode over to Derek and pulled him to his feet. Dean grabbed Derek’s shirt and pulled him close, so that they were chest to chest. He pressed his face to Derek’s, cheek to cheek, as though they were hugging. “Stiles is here.” He whispered in a low voice.

“Where?” Derek whispered back, his hands on Dean’s biceps.

“He’s outside. He’s gonna bust us out.” Dean replied. He cocked his head to the side. “He needs us to distract the ones in here so he can get through the ones out there.”

“Stiles isn’t strong enough-” Derek started, whispering urgently.

“Sam wouldn’t have sent him off alone if he wasn’t strong enough. He is. Have a little faith in your human.” Dean chided, before pushing him away roughly. He walked over to the cell door and the small window. “Hey, Rex!” He called out to one of the guys. “Did you hear why the dog got arrested?”

“Shut up!” One voice called.

“For littering!” Dean laughed. “Get it? Cuz dogs, have litters?”

Derek groaned.

“Shut up!” The same voice replied.

“Come over here and make me, Fido!” Dean called out. He whistled. “Here, boy! Here! Who’s the good boy!”

“We’re going to die.” He heard Lydia murmur in the cell next to theirs.

“Aw, not you sweetheart.” Dean replied in a genuinely warm tone. “I’ll let Derek and the rest of the pack go before you.”

“Not as comforting as you would think.” Lydia called back.

Suddenly there was a half shifted face at their cell door. “I will rip her pretty little throat out-”

Dean snarled and Derek could swear that the cell got colder. “And you will be sorry that you ever started that sentence.” He shot his hand out through the cell bars and slammed the man’s face into the door. The other three started yelling and trying to pull their friend away from Dean, who held fast. Someone opened the door and stuck a taser into Dean’s side, but Derek grabbed the thick arm and pulled the guy inside.

Dean shut the cell door and let the other guy drop to the ground outside. Derek held the guy back by his arms and waited underneath the bare bulb in the middle of the room. Dean swaggered over and Derek saw over his shoulder some of the other guards watching him.

They didn’t open the door.

Dean grinned widely at the man struggling in Derek’s arms.

“Have you met Francis?” He asked.

~~~

Sam shifted uncomfortably in the dark. He wondered if this was what Dean saw. If Sam concentrated hard enough, the pitch black became shades of gray and he was able to pick through the debris at his feet with surprising ease. He could feel the runes close, and he knew there were five of them. But he also felt that others were guarding them. He just couldn’t count how many.

“Fuck it.” He muttered. He stepped around the corner and saw Deucalion, standing next to a stone table.

“Sam.” He said softly. Ten people stepped out of the shadows around them. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Well. Who could turn down an invite like this? You’ve got all the party favors.” Sam said and nodded at the table at Deucalion side.

Deucalion smiled. “I can see why they all love you downstairs.”

“It’s the personality, really, it is.” Sam said and took a step towards the small table.

“You know, if you and that brother of yours would like to switch sides, this could all be over in a matter of minutes.”

“Obviously, you don’t know my brother and me.” Sam said. “We don’t like to kill the innocent ways. We try really hard not to.”

Deucalion smirked. “There are others who would say something different.”

“Aren’t there are always?” Sam said, taking another step forward. Four people stepped in between him and Deucalion.

“Take another step, do it.” One of them snarled.

“What are you going to do?” Sam asked, tipping his head to the side. This was the closest he had been to demon blood in years and he was intoxicated. It wasn’t like falling off the wagon, not really, because the magic that was pumping through him wasn’t something torn from one of the monsters he had fought. This was something purer and more powerful.

But it was also verging on terrifying. Sam wasn’t sure who was in control; him or the magic.

“I’ll do what I have to.”

“So will I.” Sam said. Then he lowered his voice to a whisper. “So will my brother.”

The first blow landed in Sam’s ribs, but it wasn’t the last. And every single strike was returned with force.

~~~

Stiles made quick work of the three outside, frightened of how easy this was for him now. Wasn’t it just the day before when his father had to comfort him over taking another life, justified as it was?

He knew it was the nemeton, pumping something through him, something maybe dark, maybe light, or something that made those terms seem trivial.

Stiles slammed his blade into the first person that came at him, the blonde who had been at Deucalion’s side from the beginning. He withdrew it and made his way to the inside where he saw a man on the ground, holding his face and another two turning to him. He dodged a punch, broke someone’s wrist who had a gun, sliced at anything that moved near him and as he approached the man on the ground he heard a voice behind him say, “Stiles, if you would leave that guy to me, I’d really appreciate it.”

Stiles took a deep breath and nodded. He fumbled with the keys he had taken off one of the guards from the outer hallway and let Dean and Derek out, noticing that there was a body slumped over in the back of their cell.

“Are you ok?” Derek asked.

Stiles nodded and handed the keys to Dean. “Yeah, I’m good. Sam went after the runes-” Stiles started as Dean unlocked the door next to theirs.

His hand stilled on the key and then he turned it, pushing his way into the cell.

“Derek, his eyes.” Stiles said to him.

Derek nodded, his mouth a thin line. “Cas died while we were down here. I don’t think he can control it anymore.”

Stiles took a step back.

“No, I mean, he has some control but- not a lot.” Derek amended.

“Who’s he in there with?” Stiles asked.

“Lydia. Cas died in there and Lydia-”

“She stayed with him.” Stiles finished softly.

Dean entered the room gingerly; for his sake or Lydia’s he wasn’t quite sure. She was sitting near the back and Dean saw that her hair was red and very long and made a curtain when she bowed her head over Castiel’s body.

“Stay away.” She growled, digging her heels in and pushing both her and Cas further back. “You come near us and he’ll-”

“Lydia, it’s me.” Dean said, holding a hand out and keeping his eyes away from the cast of light.

Lydia’s grip loosened, slightly. “Dean?”

He nodded. “Yeah. It’s me.”

She nodded and tipped her head up, but did not put Castiel’s body down.

“I have to go- I have to go help my brother. If you could just stay with him-”

“As long as you need me to.” She promised and held out her hand to him. Dean hesitated and stepped forward, knowing the light would bathe his face and she would see what he was.

She blinked up at him but her hand never wavered. He took hers in his and gripped it firmly. She nodded and Dean gave one last look to Castiel’s body, tucked firmly against Lydia, his last goodbye all sealed up in a black leather jacket and blue jeans.

Dean turned and walked out the door. “Get the others out. I’ll go get Sam. Don’t leave down here without us.” He ordered.

Stiles opened his mouth to say something but Derek stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Imagine me dying in the room next to you. And you can’t do a damn thing about it.”

Stiles nodded. He took the keys from Lydia’s door and began to open the other cells.

~~~

Dean worked his way through the people that tried to stop him with a silent ease. He didn’t stop and let them think they had a chance. Most were stabbed until he found a gun, then they were shot until he ran out of bullets. After that, he began snapping necks. He left a trail of bodies behind him that anyone could follow.

He finally entered a room with a low stone ceiling. Deucalion had Sam on his knees, bloody and almost unconscious.

“I would think real hard about your next move, buck-o.” Dean said from the doorway. Bodies were flung around the floor and it looked like Sam had been working here.

Deucalion’s face was splashed with blood and Dean had to wonder if it belonged to his brother. Deucalion let Sam fall to the ground and said, “Well, if it wasn’t the man we were waiting for.”

“You knew where I was the whole time. You could have come for me any time you wanted.” Dean said, striding up to Sam and pushing his hair out of his face. “You ok, little brother?”

Sam nodded and pointed at Dean. “Told you he was coming.”

Dean straightened up and looked at Deucalion. He had his hands around the runes that were previously on the stone altar next to him. He plucked one from the pile and held it up for Dean to see.

“The one to control demons, I get it, you’re the cool guy.” Dean said.

Deucalion clenched his hand around it and stared at Dean.

It’s not like Dean didn’t feel anything. He did. Like a fly buzzing around in the back of his head and some annoying voice telling him to kill his brother, take up the knife that was just behind him and end it-

But in the end, it was just a voice.

“Stop.” Dean demanded. He rolled his shoulders. “It’s annoying.”

Deucalion sputtered. “Annoying?”

Dean helped Sam to his feet and nodded to the door. “We’ll be there in a few.” He said.

Sam nodded and headed to the door.

“Yeah, annoying.” Dean said. He strode over to Deucalion and slapped the runes from his hands. “I got news for you, buddy-boy. I’m a knight of hell, the father of murder himself handed me this curse and you think your little magic dominoes can do anything to me?” Dean stomped on them, crushing them under his heel. He slapped Deucalion across the face, sending him spinning in the other direction. Deucalion turned to him and raised his fist but Dean slapped him down, again. Then he grabbed him by his lapels and threw him into the wall opposite him.

“You don’t understand. Really, you don’t.” Dean said. “The only person that could keep this in check died because of you.” There was something dark crashing down on Dean, letting the anger wash over him and keeping the grief at bay. For now. “And now- well now.” Dean slammed him into the wall again. “Now you have to pay for what you’ve done.”

“You going to kill me, Dean?” Deucalion asked and then choked when Dean slipped a hand around his neck.

“No. But I’m not going to stop anyone who wants to do worse to you.”

~~~

Sam stumbled through the door to the cells moments before Dean did. His face throbbed and his shoulder felt like it was on fire. He was sure at least three of his fingers were broken.

“Cas?” He asked.

Derek and Stiles exchanged a look. Malia was leaning against the wall and Kira was leaning into Derek. They had yet been able to figure out how to get Scott out of his chains and water.

“Sam- I-” Derek started. “We-”

Sam went still, his eyes wide. “Where is he, Derek?” He whispered. “Where’s Castiel?”

“Sam-” Stiles whispered helplessly.

Dean strode through the doors and threw Deucalion down on the ground. “Watch him.” He snapped.

Malia’s eyes flashed when they fell on Deucalion. She struggled to her feet and Stiles caught sight of the tattered back of her shirt. Underneath were healed scars, in a criss cross fashion.

They hadn’t been there when Malia had disappeared.

Dean caught Sam’s arm and helped him into the doorway of Lydia’s cell. He left him leaning against the door. He approached Lydia slowly, listening to the soft tune she was humming as she rocked Castiel’s body back and forth. Her gaze was somewhere else.

“Lydia.” Dean said softly.

Sam watched as the red head clinging to Cas blinked and focused in on Dean.

“Dean. I stayed with him. Like you asked me to.” She said gently.

“Thank you.” Dean said. He placed one hand on top of hers. Castiel’s body was still beneath both their hands. “But you can go with your pack now. I’ve got it.”

“He told me-” Lydia said softly. Dean waited for her to finish. “He told me that I wasn’t the end. That I was the beginning.”

“Then you listen to him.” Dean whispered fiercely. He tightened his grip on her hand minutely. “You listen to what he told you. And believe in him. He was-” Dean stopped and hung his head. “He was faith.”

Lydia nodded and gently handed Cas over to Dean. She stood and went to Sam. She pulled his arm over her shoulders. “Come on.” She whispered.

Once again in the hallway, letting Lydia take some of his weight, he watched as Stiles pulled Scott from the chains in the middle of the room. The water was chest deep and Sam had no idea how they switched the electricity off, but Stiles was able to pull him away safely.

They stepped into the hallway, sloshing water everywhere. Derek took Scott from Stiles’ arms and Scott leaned into his beta. Sam watched as Derek took some of the pain from him and Scott was able to regain his footing. He hugged Stiles and Derek and spoke a few soft words with Malia. Kira kissed him and they spoke against each others lips before he stopped in front of Lydia.

“You’re ok?” Scott asked gently. He stroked the side of her face gently.

“I don’t know.” She said softly.

Scott nodded. “Honesty. We’ll help you.” He turned his gaze to Sam and placed a hand on his neck. Sam felt him pulling the pain from him and let him. “I don’t know how else to say thank you.” Scott said finally.

Sam nodded. There weren’t words. They needed to figure out how they were going to process this; how they were going to piece each other back again.

“Your friend. Castiel.” Scott said. “I don’t have- I don’t know what to-”

“Neither do I.” Sam said. He nodded and there were tears in his eyes. “So don’t. We’ll-” He gestured helplessly. He couldn’t say they would be all right. Or that they could figure it out. Castiel had long ago become a part of the Winchester legacy. Without him, Sam didn’t know where to go. “Sometimes there aren’t words.”

Scott turned to Deucalion who had backed his way into Malia’s cell at the far end. His eyes flashed red.

“You’re a true alpha-” Deucalion started, a whine in his voice. “If you kill me- you won’t, you won’t be one anymore.”

“But I’m not.” Derek whispered.

“Neither am I.” Malia said, pushing herself off the wall. Kira didn’t say anything, but followed the other two in, along with Stiles. He shut the door behind him.

Sam knew he still had his knives on him.

Scott nodded.

Sam gestured to the door. “Let’s go.”

“Your brother-” Scott said, looking at the darkened door where he knew Dean was.

“He’ll come up, when he’s ready. Right now, it’s best to leave him.” Sam said. Lydia readjusted his arm on her shoulders and they turned away from the cells when the screams started. They made a slow and halting way up the stairs and out the church.

~~~

Outside, Sam pulled away from Lydia and he watched as her and Scott slumped over on the old worn steps. Nobody said anything and after awhile, Sam sat too. Lydia looked up at the stars above their heads.

“I didn’t think I would ever see them again.”

Scott reached over and squeezed her arm. They both continued to look up at the sky.

Twenty minutes later, dawn was breaking and the rest of the pack came out of the church. Stiles was even more blood soaked than he had been going in and Derek’s black shirt looked wet. Malia and Kira supported each other on the way out and Sam had to look away from them. They had been gone the longest and Stiles wasn’t the only one to note the scars on Malia’s back.

Sam stood and made his way to the side of the church. He saw shadows shifting in there and he considered going back in. He discarded the thought almost immediately. Whatever was in there with Dean, Dean could take care of. And if it was just Dean in there, Sam knew to give him his space.

He glanced over at the pack, all of them in a group together, Scott at the center of them, pulling each one of them in closer until they were huddled as close as they could get, wrapped up in each other, hands holding other hands, fingers carding through hair, maintaining some kind of physical contact.

Sam could see the stark relief on Scott, Derek and Malia’s faces. He heard Lydia start crying softly and he watched while Stiles pulled her even closer into the group. They were saying words to one another, consoling each other, comforting one another.

That wasn’t for Sam, even when they all turned to him and Lydia offered her hand to him.

Instead, he turned his back to them, anger and grief wrapping itself tight around Sam and watched as a light flared in the church. It flared brighter and Dean stepped out. He kicked the door behind him closed but Sam saw the flash of fire behind him. He had set fire to the church.

Dean descended slowly, careful not to jar the body in his arms. He had taken off his flannel and covered Castiel’s face with it. Dean had his face bowed. Scott broke away from his pack and stepped forward but Sam stepped in front of him and placed a hand on his chest. He could feel the same grief and anger that he wrapped around himself, pulsating off of Dean. Now was not the time for words, as conciliatory as they might be.

“Don’t.” He told Scott softly. “Another time, maybe. But not now.”

Scott hesitated, his eyes on Sam. He nodded and stepped back to his group.

Dean continued forward and stopped. His eyes were still downward, on Castiel’s covered face.

“Lydia?” He asked softly.

She pushed her hair off her face and stepped forward, next to Sam. Sam placed a hand on her arm, as a warning. She looked up at him, her face a silent question. After a second, Sam nodded and Lydia took a couple steps forward to Dean.

“What I said in there,” Dean started softly. “It still stands. Anything you need, all you have to do is call me.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Lydia said softly. “I couldn’t help him.”

Dean shook his head. “You were there when no one else was. You made sure he wasn’t alone. You did that for him when I couldn’t.”

“Dean-” Lydia said and reached out to him. Her hands shook and Sam wondered if she knew she was crying. “It’s not your fault.”

Dean didn’t reply but after a long moment, he pulled away from her hand and turned to the Impala. Sam watched as he placed Castiel’s body in the back seat and made his way to the driver’s side. He wouldn’t be surprised if Dean totally forgot about him.

He turned back to the rest of the group and his eyes settled on Stiles.

“You’ll be ok.” Sam said.

“Will you?” Stiles asked.

Sam turned and looked at the car waiting for him, the body of his best friend in the back seat, his brother at the wheel.

“No. But when have we ever?”

Sam turned and went to the car. He got in the passenger seat and Dean started the car.

They left Beacon Hills.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**[ ** Playlist ** ](https://play.spotify.com/user/ymfnm/playlist/7CqUQLTmkwj9aS4Q0uHY0a) **

_From:stilinskiSti@bhills.net_

_To:winchesters@MoL.net_

_10-3-15, 9:18PM_

_Hey Sam,_

_Things are ok here. You know, just trying to keep everyone together. It’s actually harder than you would think. Malia is kind of distant and doesn’t talk about the month she was gone. Lydia mostly sits with her and draws while Malia just sits. We’ve tried to get her to do things but she kind of withdraws more._

_Lydia is ok. She’s going to school and drawing and teaching a few classes again. She says she can hear the kids whisper about her behind her back but I don’t think she cares anymore. She told me she prays to Castiel every night. She looks sad every time she talks about him. ~~They weren’t in that cell very long but she~~ Derek asked her to move in with us. He didn’t like the thought of her alone all the time. We got a bigger place. She’s got her own room and everything. It’s nice, seeing her. It makes me feel better knowing she’s close. Is that weird? I used to have the biggest crush on her and now, she’s like my sister. _

_Kira and Scott moved in together! That was unexpected. But Derek told me that Kira is having some nightmares still. Scott says they are getting better but Derek still looks worried. She’s learning a new style of fighting and I’m not sure if that’s good or bad._

_Scott is, well, Scott. He’s trying hard to take care of all of us (that alpha thing, I think) but sometimes I just want to shake him and tell him to give it a rest. Give himself a rest. I look at the picture of us on the beach, the one that I let Castiel see?, and it’s kind of shitty. We had been through some stuff when that had happened but none of it made us ready for what happened to us later. Malia, especially. I’m really worried about her, Sam. I don’t want to push her but we miss her._

_~~Sam, do you still feel the power from the nemeton sometimes? I feel like Sometimes I get mad at the stupidest Should I be worried Derek is looking at me differently and so is my dad~~ _

_I wish we had been there for Castiel’s burial. ~~He was a good guy. He seemed like the kind of person, angel, I’m so sorry, Sam.~~ _

_How’s Dean?_

 

_Stiles_

 

 

_From:winchesters@MoL.net_

_To:stilinskiSti@bhills.net_

_10-5-15, 06:14AM_

 

_Hi Stiles,_

_I’m sure Malia will be fine. She just needs time adjust. From what you tell me about her, her life has been full of adjusting. First as werecoyote on her own, then back as a teenage girl, then to a pack, then to whatever she went through in that cell. Give her time. She’s resilient._

_~~If she needs you to, let her go.~~ _

_Scott and Kira moved in together? That’s huge. Should we be expecting fox/alpha werewolves? That sounds dangerous. Let me know._

_It’s good to hear that Lydia is getting back out there. The rumors will die down after awhile, I’m sure. She’s talking with Dean too. If anyone knows what it’s like to have powers that they can’t exactly control, it’s Dean. People just need time, Stiles. ~~And it’s not going to be like it was. It never will be.~~_

_Castiel had a hunter’s burial. It’s simple and short but I’ll tell Dean what you said._

_Dean doesn’t say much. We had a couple cases, but he can only work in the daytime. He has to keep his sunglasses on all the time because of his eyes. He seems ok. Distant. He doesn’t say as much anymore. He texts Lydia some, I know._

_~~I think I lost my brother, Stiles.~~ _

_Tell everyone I said hello._

 

_Sam_

 

_~~~_

 

_**1:56PM** _

_**To: Dean** _

_**From: Lydia** _

_You ever meet someone so talented you want to hit them because they don’t do anything with it?_

 

_**1:57PM** _

_**To: Lydia** _

_**From: Dean** _

_In my line of work, often. Sometimes I do hit them. Kids giving you heartache?_

 

_**1:57PM** _

_**To: Dean** _

_**From: Lydia** _

_This one kid. Hayley. I can see how bright she is, but she’s pretending to be stupid for some guy._

 

_**1:59PM** _

_**To: Lydia** _

_**From: Dean** _

_She’s just a kid. She’ll learn._

 

_~~~_

 

_**2:32 AM** _

_**To: Dean** _

_**From: Lydia** _

_Are you there?_

 

_**2:33 AM** _

_**To: Lydia** _

_**From: Dean** _

_Yeah, what’s up?_

 

_**2:33 AM** _

_**To: Dean** _

_**From: Lydia** _

_I had a nightmare._

 

_**2:34 AM** _

_**To: Lydia** _

_**From: Dean** _

_Do you want to talk about it? Do you need to skype or whatever?_

 

_**2:35 AM** _

_**To: Dean** _

_**From: Lydia** _

_No, it’s nothing. Never mind._

 

_**2:38 AM** _

_**To: Lydia** _

_**From: Dean** _

_It’s never nothing. Talk to me._

 

_**2:57 AM** _

_**To: Dean** _

_**From: Lydia** _

_I was in the cell with Cas. And he sat up and he told me it was going to be ok. Then he laid back down again and when he opened his eyes, they were green and he told me to count to five, count to five, count to five. I woke up on the ground and Derek was there. He said I was pacing, counting on my fingers up to five over and over again._

 

_**3:15AM** _

_**To: Dean** _

_**From: Lydia** _

_Dean?_

 

_**4:57AM** _

_**To: Dean** _

_**From: Lydia** _

_I’m sorry, Dean._

 

_**5:03AM** _

_**To: Lydia** _

_**From: Dean** _

_Why 5?_

 

Lydia stared hard at her phone for a long moment. Five was an interesting number. She had already been up researching it. It was the first “safe” prime number, it was supposed to symbolize God’s grace, goodness and favor towards humans. And five, multiplied on itself, was grace upon grace. The Ten Commandments were two sets of five and the number itself was mentioned in the bible three hundred and eighteen times.

 

_**5:06 AM** _

_**To: Dean** _

_**From: Lydia** _

_I have no idea._

 

_~~~_

 

Dean set his phone down on the small table next to him and pressed play on his DVR. There was a detective looking for a vampire in New York. Cas would have laughed at the inane nature of the cop, pointing out all the character and script flaws and how he would fix them. Dean would offer to make them popcorn and get them sodas, even though neither one needed food anymore. Cas would steal his licorice and before the movie was over he would be wrapped around Dean, dozing off with his head on Dean’s belly while Dean played with his hair.

That would have been months ago. Now, after the burial, all he had left was some pictures and the leather jacket Cas wore. He had their rings around his neck still but other than that, Castiel Winchester had left this planet as suddenly as he had blazed in.

Dean picked up his phone again and considered replying to Lydia, one of two people he talked to anymore, and decided against it. Instead he stood up and made his way to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror, frowning at the three day scruff on his chin, and the small patch of sunburnt skin on his nose.

He tried to avoid the obvious.

His eyes.

They were still the demon black that they had been since he had left Beacon Hills. That had been well over a month ago. Sam had tried spell after spell but none of it seemed to take. Nothing was breaking through whatever this was, whatever had a hold on him. As long as Dean had control over it though, and wore sunglasses, they went on with their lives.

Dean turned on the water and bent over, splashing water on his face and sighing.

He heard wings.

This wasn’t the first time he thought he had heard them, but now he was to the point where he would clench his eyes shut and pray that the illusion would go away. The resulting heartache was too much and Dean would disappear for days to find monsters to rip through until he could reclaim his control.

So he straightened, clenched his eyes shut and thought of Lydia.

 _Count to five, count to five, count to five_.

Dean ticked off the numbers on his fingers and let out a breath. There was a shuffling step behind him and Dean opened his eyes.

His eyes.

They were green again.

“The stars are falling, Dean.” Cas said softly.

 

 


End file.
